


I'm Not Afraid of You

by BurningSama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Bottom!Stiles, Explicit Sexual Content, Full Moon, Knotting, Love, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Reconstruction of Hale House, Rough Sex, Sappiness, Sexual Content, Shopping, Sourwolf, Top!Derek, Top!Stiles, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 03:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningSama/pseuds/BurningSama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The chemistry is obvious between Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, but it takes quite a major catalyst — The pool.  The scene between the two sparks the flame of their affection and leads to some lovely Sterek interaction.  This story is filled with heartwarming moments, affection, turmoil, and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Not Afraid of You: The First Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This fan-fiction is dedicated to 74Days and her creation Out of Milk, and Annber’s You Don’t See Straight . Although I don’t agree with some choices, 74Days, in the end I was balling because it’s beautiful and heart-wrenching. Although this story will not have has many chapter, will not be constantly updated, or whatever, nor contain any magic Stiles, there will be the recreation of the Hale House with many windows and a subterranean, awesome basement. 74Days, although you’ll never read this, your story made me all sorts of emotions for like a good half-a-day, because of the conclusion (in a good way) and because of the angst and tension... And stuff... And frustration, that was indeed and needed. I’m just thankful for it, and flustered by it... And still, I suppose reeling from it. 
> 
> Similarly, Annber’s story is heart warming and although I usually like to stay around the Canon world, her story is filled with pack feels, mating, and other such wolven things that I’m drawn to. I hope that I can capture the same emotional strength that her fiction does. Thank you for your story. It fuels my little black heart.
> 
> This story is — where to begin — sort of what I promised in my last fic., the conclusion I intended, but then I rejected it. In fact I may reject my other conclusion idea to maintain this story the way I want it... But I do love the idea I have... Ugh! Regardless. I want to have feelings in this story that even melt through my callousness, arrogance, ego, etc... This fic. is set
> 
> And so I begin.... Again in the pool.
> 
> P.S. This is not beta-ed, and please forgive any errors. I'm not adverse to open criticism particularly when it is done out of kindness and not malicious intent.
> 
> P.S.S. I've been... Going through a load of fan fiction involving mating, heat, cycles, and bonding and I've left that possibility open, not sure if I feel comfortable enough to write it. Not uncomfortable with the writing of the scenes involving it, but comfortable with the details of it and how to write it.... Oh and please tell me if I should add more tags, I'm still new at this so please inform me.

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1  
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Treading water for four hours was by no means the way in which Stiles had planned to spend his evening, nor had it been his particular interest to be spending his evening with sourwolf paralyzed from the neck down in his arms — the only thing keeping him from drowning — with a Kanima stalking them from the edge. Derek in general was handsome, muscular, and rugged. His defined jaw, stubble, and dark byronic eyes made him appear self-loathing and grumpy all the time. His history was known to Stiles; the Hale House had been burnt down, arson his father had told him. It had been a few years ago, the funeral; his father had forced him to go, knowing the effect of grief upon a family. Stiles didn’t like the cemetery, his mother was buried not too far from the Hale site.

It was in that pool that Stiles — not that he hadn’t before but Derek was always so distant besides of course bashing his head into walls, steering wheels — that he got very close to the alpha werewolf. There was an awkward moment where Stiles’ groin was pressed very close to Derek’s arse. The rock-hard sculpted posterior met his hardening manhood that was clearly shown through the wet clothing. He hoped that Derek couldn’t feel him, while he kicked keeping them afloat. In fact he could. 

When all was said and done, however, everything went back to normal, or as normal as he could possibly be when there are werewolves, kanimas, and hunters. Derek would occasionally stop by, demanding as ever, and so would Scott to inform him how confusing it was to date someone that was going through so much trauma, angst, grief, rage, and love. His father too would pop in on occasion to check up on him to make sure that he was alright, or have those awkward yet reaffirming father to son moments that Stiles would never admit he loved, even if they were sometimes awkward.

Everything went back to normal, of course until a week after they had dealt with Gerard, the psychopathic patriarch of the Argent family — no the hunters had a matriarchal system. In Greek terms he was the polemarchos, the man in charge of war.

It all started slowly.

***

School had ended in glorious triumph for Stiles, sure he was bruised outside of his victorious victory over their rival lacrosse team, but he had ended the year in triumph, on both the school front and the werewolf front. His father was still upset that he hadn’t spoken to him about his bruises, especially the one on his face. He wanted to go for vengeance even though his son seemed unfazed. Nor had he shown particular interesting in sending him forth to deal with the person who had injured him. He felt useless, like he couldn’t protect his own son from harm. He was the sheriff, he needed to protect and serve, even more so because it was his son.

Derek had even dropped by more frequently, he would brood in a corner of the room, or sit on the edge of the teen’s bed and waited until he would get home from spending time with Scott or visiting Dr. Deaton. The veterinarian had been informing the teen about the varieties of wolfsbane and purposes of mountain ash, and all this was taught under the disguise of a summer job. Scott, maintained his own post and the clinic, but Stiles didn’t get to spend much time with him, no. Scott had divided his time rather poorly; he spent it with Alison primarily, Isaac secondarily, and last, and feeling like the least, Stiles.

It was oddly comforting, nerve-wracking, and annoying, when Stiles would return home from his three hour time spent at the clinic, and find Derek somewhere in his room. He would, if sitting on the bed, quickly get up and approach Stiles with some arbitrary project, whether it be information from Deaton, the bestiary (which Lydia translated in full now), or Stiles’ own, sometimes extraordinary, research. Stiles though could tell that Derek wasn’t truly paying attention to him, just letting the words slid through Stiles’ mouth into Derek’s ears, and out the other end wasted. The werewolf would fixate on his bruised face, and part of him wondered if Derek was trying to envision the other, now purpling, bruises on his body. He would courtly leave after spending time listening and staring.  
It had only been two week since the Gerard incident, it felt much longer, particularly when Stiles’ left consisted of a simple routine: he would wake up, shower (with potentially some personal time which depended on if Derek showed up, which now had no intervals. Derek would show up every day now), breakfast with his father (if his father was actually there. He would leave either in the morning, or wouldn’t even arrive home until the following evening — the life of a police officer, especially the sheriff), go to Deaton’s clinic, return home, Derek’s ‘meeting’ with him, personal time (after Derek had left), idle research, personal time (he was a teenager after all), and then sleep. Permitting of course lunch and diner. Alone. The usual.

However, on Friday at Deaton’s clinic, Scott had informed him that there was a pack meeting; it was offhanded as if Scott believed Stiles was informed. He hadn’t, but he didn’t let Scott in on the fact that there was meeting without him. They continued talking while Scott busied over a dog that had recently gotten stitches. She was not in critical condition, but Deaton, with a careful eye, had let him stitch her himself and treat her. He also could syphon the pain from the animal, even though he had given her the required dose.

“I’m softening to Derek has an Alpha, he may not have given me the bite, but he at least has attempted to keep everyone safe,” Scott said. “Even Alison.”

“He’s a good guy,” Stiles said, an edge in his voice that presented his irritation at not been told.

“Still angry with Derek over something? Or are you still upset with Lydia for... ah... Choosing Jackson?”

“Nothing, Scott,” Stiles said, before he left, got into his jeep and headed home. He wasn’t speeding, but he was bordering on it. He wouldn’t want one of his dad’s men pulling him over and calling the Sheriff — dad. When he arrived home, Derek was waiting for him at the foot of his bed. He had been clenching one of his hands and rubbed his thumb against the other. Stiles’ sheets had been disturbed, as if Derek had lain there, but had moved because his wolven hearing had heard his jeep’s door close. The werewolf stood up, slowly, glanced up, the bruise on Stiles’ face yellowing now.

“How’s Deaton? Anything useful?” Derek asked.

Stiles groaned, Derek could tell, as thick as he was that the teen was upset. “Deaton’s good. Just learning more about wolfsbane.”

Derek gave a small growl at the mention of wolfsbane, as if it was an unconscious reaction. Stiles didn’t jump, but he did shift uncomfortably for a moment. Noticing what he had done Derek made his way to leave, he was faster and more urgent, but Stiles got in his way.

“Get out of the way, Stiles,” Derek grumbled upset.

“No,” Stiles said.

Derek’s hands flew to Stiles’ shoulders, and the werewolf, with little if no effort, attempted to move him aside. Stiles held his ground.

“Stiles!” Derek said, his temper going through him.

“Go on, throw me across the room, bash my head against my desk, or my wall,” Stiles said, his word’s envenomed. “Come on, you want to. I know. Don’t glare at me with those red eyes. Make me move! What? What’s keeping you from getting your alpha way. Don’t you have a pack meeting to go to! Huh!”

“Stiles,” Derek growled out.

“No!” Stiles, yelling now. “I’ve busted my ass helping the pack. Your pack! And what, you have Jackson now, and Scott’s warming up to you. So you no longer need the fucking gangly human, even though that human saved your life on multiple occasions.” Stiles pushed Derek in the chest with both of his palms and put his weight into it. Derek, hadn’t expected it, and fumbled momentarily.

There was a growl and Derek picked Stiles up and pressed him against a wall, but the teen could tell there was something missing. There wasn’t the force that there usually was. His head didn’t make contact with the wall, Derek only picked him up and moved him. Derek tried to leave, but Stiles held on, wrapping his hands around the werewolf’s waist.

“What?!” Stiles shouted. “You’re not going to rip my throat out with your teeth?!” The teens accusation stung Derek, because he had injured Stiles before. Part of him wanted to tear him to shreds for disobeying an alpha’s orders, but the other part, ever since the pool wanted Stiles. It had happened gradually; he had thought about the teen a lot since meeting him again in the woods while the searched for the inhaler, but he started to pay more attention when Stiles stood up against him in the police cruiser, unafraid on the surface, while maintaining a straight face even though he was scared. That put Stiles on his radar, not in the way he wanted the teen now, but on his radar nonetheless. When he actually got to know Stiles, he couldn’t help but warm to the teen; he was annoying, and Derek’s rage was unfettered so there may have been violence, but the teen’s oddball antics and words could do that. What sold Derek though on Stiles was his usefulness and intelligence, and thus he was a valued member of his pack. And the fact that Stiles had saved his life a number of times, didn’t hurt either. The event though that started his attraction of the teen was in the pool; one of those rare attempts that Stiles saved his ass. Stiles had hardened with their bodies so close, and Derek couldn’t deny that he had, on one occasion or two dreamt of Stiles in that sort of way. The werewolf acted like nothing happened. It was best. But Stiles was close, so close to him, and it hadn’t been this hard before to be Stiles’ company.

He came to Stiles’ house every day, checking up on him; checking up on the healing of Stiles’ bruises. When he had first seen those new bruises on Stiles, ones he hadn’t inflicted, his werewolf rage coursed through him, and he had wanted to tear the hunters limb from limb, but he calmed himself. Derek wanted to protect Stiles.

Stiles stood there against the wall without moving, barely breathing, just looking at Derek with his arms around him. The wolf was thinking, he could tell. “Out with it,” Stiles said, no, he whispered. It was almost a plea. A desperate plea.

“You’re seventeen,” Derek stated.

“So?”

Derek’s body closed the distance between so that there was not even a sliver of gap between them. Stiles could feel the hardened manhood concealed in Derek’s tight jeans that did his bulge credit. “I want to protect you.”

“Then I should be a part of the pack meetings, around the pack, not wondering on my own,” Stiles said. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that werewolves would be the best protection in the world, and he couldn’t protect himself. He was, Stiles thought, useless.

“But you got hurt the last time...”

“Gerard did this, not a werewolf,” Stiles said, his tone still angry.

Stiles arched into Derek’s body, his slender form paired against the werewolf’s bulk. Their groins met, each hardened and their bodies reciprocating. Stiles arms around Derek’s waist tightened, and Stiles, who hadn’t let his eyes meet Derek’s, shifted his gaze to take in Derek’s. His pupils were dark and blown (so too were Stiles’), and Stiles believed that Derek was not entirely in control of himself. His breath was heavy, and Stiles couldn’t help but groan as Derek’s stubbled grazed his face as the werewolf brought his tongue across the teen’s mandible,

“D-Derek,” Stiles moaned out.

Derek’s hot breath was against his throat again. Each breath forcing out a groan from the teen before those breathes were against his lips. Stiles’ breathing hitched, he couldn’t — no, wouldn’t dare breathe. The werewolf growled deep, pulling the sound from deep within his rumbling chest.

A kiss that was forceful, full of desperation, was placed on Stiles’ lips before Derek’s tongue found its way into the teen’s mouth. Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth as the werewolf brought one of his hands under Stiles’ shirt. He could hear the teen’s heartbeat increase and his sudden inhale. Another growl.

Stiles began to fiddle with Derek’s belt buckle, but the wolf then pulled away. His eyes flashed red before fading and the pupils returned to normal. He backed away, Stiles could see his erection that was pressing against his jeans (his own was embarrassingly visible). He turned around, paused, and Stiles thought Derek whispered, “I shouldn’t be doing this.” Before turned around to face Stiles again. “We’re meeting at my home.”

Stiles let his breath out. “The warehouse?”

“No, my old home. My home. Six.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, as he watched Derek open his window and left, presumably the same way he had come. He exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, then inhaled — calming himself. He looked at the clock, four-thirty, he would leave at five. The Hale house was a little ways out, in the forest, and Derek wouldn’t mind if he was early. Or at least, Derek before the kiss — before this — before, Derek would be annoyed with him, but put up with him if only because he was useful.

He lay down on his bed, he could smell the cedar-pine smell that Derek had on his sheets. He curled up there, his nose to his covers, wanting Derek to be there inside of the emptiness he was used.

.  
.  
.  
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Stiles awoke to the buzz of his cellphone’s alarm. He woke up went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and glanced at himself in the mirror. He was thankful that he had shorn his hair, to keep it so very short; Scott would have spent an hour dealing with his own. Stiles went to his window, looked out: the sun was soon to be fading and his father’s cruiser wasn’t in the driveway.

He pulled his red hoodie over his head, went down to the kitchen and scrawled a note down on the memo-pad they kept by the phone. It read: “Dad, staying over at Scott’s. Studying for Economics. You know Scott.... Eat right! Leftover veggie burgers in the fridge. Love you, Stiles.”

He left the house and got into his jeep; the drive to the Hale house was one of his favourites. The trees would begin to line the road as they drove through into the edge of the forest. It was only until one saw the house — the burnt skeletal remains of a familiar home that had once held lives that had been caught in the blaze, leaving only three alive. One of which hadn’t died, not even died temporarily. Derek stood on the charred porch of the home as Stiles approached, the sunlight was catching on the edge of the horizon, the reds and oranges lit up the sky as if a blood orange had been stretched like pelt across the clouds. Stiles drove up knowing fully well that Derek had heard his car approach, it was five according to the radio DJ that had been playing the most popular songs of the newly formed summer.

He hopped out of his jeep. Derek looked displeased, but no more than usual. Stiles waved as he approached the grumpy wolf that stood there, his face solemn and looking towards him. His bulking form casts shadows upon the ruins of his once-home.

“You’re nearly thirty minutes early,” Derek said, a little irritated.

“I’m not going to be beaten here by Scott,” Stiles said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Derek laughed. Hold on, sourwolf can laugh, Stiles thought momentarily. Odd.

Derek, as if he noticed, stopped himself with a halt and looked at Stiles with a look of genuine curiosity, when the teen smile fell when he stopped laughing. Stiles moved forward not entirely sure where he stood with the older man. He walked casually and when the distance between them was closed, he threw his hands up going for a hug.

Derek made no attempt to stop him, he just stood there and took it in stride. They were roughly the same height, Derek was slightly taller, it may have been his boots or his hulking frame, but whatever it was, he was taller by a fraction. Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder and inhaled, taking in the scent he had fallen asleep so gently to. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, his tone telling Stiles that he was unsure, uneasy.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, his breath and voice reverberating against the werewolf-warm flesh. Overcome by the way in which he spoke Stiles’ name, the teen brought his lips against the side of the werewolf’s neck. He could feel Derek’s pulse against his soft lips and Stiles smiled. He could feel Derek’s pulse quicken, he knew, for once, what the werewolf’s could hear.

Derek tensed and Stiles could feel the werewolf’s head look in the direction of the road. He made no move to remove Stiles from around his neck, but the teen knew that if Derek had full control of himself he would have asked him to move. Stiles unlatched himself from Derek, regretfully but he let go.

Stiles look forward, a Sicilian designed triskelion had been spray painted, black, against Derek’s door. Stiles frown and tapped the werewolf on his arm. “What’s this.”

“I’ll get to it.”

“Can you just give me a quick summary,” Stiles said, tapping his leg with his hand as he probed through the mountains of information he had read online. Nothing.

“Alpha pack. Coming to town. They sent this as a message.”

“Okay,” Stiles breathed out. Derek hadn’t answered his question fully, but it worked. He sighed, thankfully his hard-on was fading, just as he heard the door of a car close. He turned around, Jackson was there with his high-end sports car.

“What’s so important that I had to come,” Jackson said incredulously. “I had plans with Lydia.”

“You could have brought her,” Derek said, glancing at Stiles.

“If there’s something important, I’m sure she’ll already know,” Jackson said. Stiles laughed. Jackson just sighed. Derek looked at Stiles for a moment before turned away and looking at the woods.

Erica, Boyd, and Isaac approached, just as Scott arrived on his bike. No Alison, Stiles thought. Good. It would have only ended badly.

“What’s this about,” Scott said. Stiles knew the tone in Scott’s voice meant that he had plans with Alison he had to cancel. There were grumbles from the rest of Derek’s betas; only Derek and Stiles remained silent.

“The Alpha pack has sent a message, you see the mark on the door,” Derek said. Isaac knew it was there. After all he had seen it; he had seen Peter off on his trip to speak with some old contacts. Derek continued to talk, “I don’t know much about them. Peter’s gone looking for information. Whatever it is, they’re watching. And as an effort to appear stronger, until of course, we are. I’m rebuilding my home. A symbol of the pack. My family was respected. And no one would go against us then, and now.”

“What do you want from us?” Scott said.

“Well I need to make this place look less...,” Derek said.

“What he means is he wants you guys to remove any traces of werewolf hijinks before the construction crew comes in,” Stiles chimed in.

“Right, anything. Just in case I can’t get the crew for rebuilding I want.” Derek said. “And Jackson, did you get your father to reverse the restraining order?”

“He didn’t like it, but I said we had made up, and that everything was in fact a rather risky prank.... One similar that I had done. He was displeased,” Jackson informed.

“Good,” Stiles said. “Not that I enjoy your crappy company, but at least I don’t have to be 15 ridiculous yards away.”

Another laugh from Derek. 

Everyone turned to Derek with a look of confusion.

“Let’s get going,” Derek said. “There is a bin behind the house throw anything that looks suspect out. Stiles, come with me into the basement, we’ll deal with that.”

“Sure,” Stiles said. He believed that he hadn’t heard Derek speak this much ever. The headed down into the basement down some rather dodgy looking staircase. “Never heard you speak so much,” Stiles stated as they walked.

“Never had a need to.”

They arrived in the cellar. It was massive, Stiles had never been around there, but he could see where there might have been some sort of werewolf training facility or holding facility down there. Derek went to work tearing bars off their hinges with wolven strength. Stiles could see where a similar machine that was used by Gerard against Erica and Boyd, had been hooked up. Stiles grimaced. “So this is where Scott found you?”

“Yes. Kate had me hooked up,” Derek said, his voice subtly fluctuating from emotional to alpha-tone momentarily.

“Bitch,” Stiles burst out, unable to contain himself. How could someone injure something so attractive— no, ah, how could someone torture another human being. “That very night, Peter asked if I wanted the bite.” Derek growled. “I didn’t accept, obviously.”

Stiles tried hard to help, removing anything that was light and pulling into a pile amongst the bars and other things Derek was pulling off the walls or ground. Alpha’s, apparently, were not meant to be kept down here.

Stiles kept glancing at Derek as they worked, watching the alpha strain his muscles to remove whatever was necessary. At one point Derek had worked himself into a sweat and removed his shirt. Stiles couldn’t help, but admire Derek, the way his body moved, the tattoo, his shoulders, his.... Everything. Stiles breath hitched, Derek laughed, they continued to work for a few more moments until Stiles, dropped some gnarled looking leather restraints onto the pile before practically running over to Derek. Stiles quickly put his hand on Derek’s shoulder, drawing the werewolf’s attention to him before planting a kiss on the man’s lips. A soft one, nothing to forceful, but a kiss nonetheless. Derek reciprocated, sending sparks to every region of Stiles’ body, particularly his loins. He jumped, bring his legs around Derek’s waist, hoisting himself up. They continued momentarily, before Stiles could hear the floorboards creek near the top of the stairs, someone was going to be coming down.

Stiles broke away, leaving Derek to rearrange himself before Stiles sat himself down on a chair that had been left, crossed his legs, and waited for whomever was coming.

“We’re finished with the upstairs,” Scott said coming into the basement. “You guys finished.” Scott looked directly at Stiles for a moment. “Don’t tell me you let Derek do all the work.”

“No!” Stiles exclaimed. “It’s just I can’t tear things off the walls, so there wasn’t much I could do.”

“Okay. Get the others and help me carry up all this. We’re finished here,” Derek said, looking alpha-broody and everything.

Stiles sighed when he thought Scott was out of wolf-earshot. “How long will it take you figure to build this house?”

“Well I’ve got a crew coming, one that does this sort of thing for my type of families; Peter suggested them, apparently mom used them. It should take roughly four months, maybe?”

“Where is the money coming from,” Stiles said. His father always said follow the money when there was no other explanation.

“Family trust,” Derek grunted out. Not used to sharing so much information.

“Then why do you live in a warehouse?”

“I wanted somewhere away from the Argents, but now that it’s been discovered... I thought it would be a good idea to rebuild the house,” Derek said.

“Where will you be staying in the meantime?” Stiles asked.

“Here,” Derek said. Stiles hated monosyllable replies.

“We’ve got a guest bedroom. It was mom’s idea, incase... But we haven’t done much with it... After you know.... Anyway, you’re more than welcome to stay. And once I explain the circumstances to my father, he won’t mind either.”

“You sure? I was a murder suspect, and....” Derek wasn’t used to such kindness.

Everyone helped clean the werewolf paraphernalia from the house, and by the time it was ten, Stiles was driving Derek to his house. “Your dad, will he be okay with this?” Derek asked. He looked awkward in the way that he sat in the passenger-side seat.

“To be honest once I get through to him he’ll listen,” Stiles said.

“Stiles,” Derek said, shacking his head. He didn’t like where this was going.  
.  
.  
.  
They pulled in front of the Stilinski home, his father’s cruiser was there, and both Stiles and Derek could see the lights through the window on the lower floor. His father was home. Stiles parked his car and slowly got out of his precious jeep. “Derek, don’t leave and don’t barge in. Stay.”

His eyes flashed red a moment. “I’m not a dog,” Derek said, his voice toned down.

Stiles laughed darkly, enjoying himself. His face became flat, calming himself, before he left to confront his father. He opened the door.

The air smelt of reheated leftovers and Stiles could hear the television going. When Stiles entered the living room, his father muted the television. He was reclining in his favourite chair, a glass of jack nearest to him on a coaster (at least his father listened when it came to protecting the furniture). “Thought you were staying at Scotts for economy,” his father said.

“Dad, I’ve got to tell you something,” Stiles said, his face serious, abnormal.

“Stiles, your scarring me. What’s wrong?” the sheriff said, startled.

“So Derek Hale, you know Derek. Investigated for murder — innocent though.”

“What about him? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“Well he’s reconstructing his family home and I offered that he stay in the guest room,” Stiles said. “And he would never hurt me.”

“That’s it? I thought you dug up another body, or some—” His father paused, Stiles was fidgeting. “What’s wrong? And did you take your adderal?”

“I took my meds, dad,” Stiles said. Words were on his tongue, they were weighing his speech and himself down.

“Out with it, Stiles!” the sheriff said, he was startled and he couldn’t fix anything if Stiles said nothing.

“Well see. I need you not to... Freak. Or arrest anyone. But see. I like Derek. And I know you said I wasn’t. But I am for him,” Stiles said. He stopped when his father’s lips thinned and lost all sign of emotion. “Now I know what you’re going to say dad. You don’t care about the homosexual thing, but you want to know if I’m safe. I’m. But we. Haven’t. And no. No. Everything that’s happened I started. My consent. I know I’m underage. Or at least in California, but in other places, Canada, England. The US is prudish and ridiculously outdated.”

“Stiles,” the sheriff groaned out. Too many words too quickly.

“I’m sorry dad, but I need you to be okay with this. And let him stay. No funny business, but I need this. Lydia... Lydia was a never reaching goal. No dad, I’m not using Derek as rebound. I know this is what I want. I,” Stiles said. He paused, knowing Derek could hear him. He was self-conscience. “I love him. After everything. I just do. He understands loss, he understands what it’s like, and we’re both scarred and effect, but we carry on.”

His dad sighed again, too many words from his son. “He’s in your car?”

“Yep.”

“Bring him in, I’d like to have a talk. And if he does everything right, he can stay.”

“Good,” Stiles said, bouncing out the door and to his jeep. He took Derek by the hand; his smaller, slender hands bracketing one of Derek’s larger ones. He led him through the front door, the bulky creature looking very timid in the new home that he had been in many times, just never with the sheriff present.

Stiles’ dad was still in his chair. Stiles noted that there wasn’t a gun, so did Derek, they both were glad.

“Good evening, sir,” Derek said bashfully.

“Pleasure to meet you under such circumstances, you know outside of my squad car,” the sheriff said. He looked to Stiles momentarily; his face cringed at statement and was practically having far too much trouble standing still. His father was surprised that he managed to not make a peep either, this must have been serious.

Derek gave a lopsided smile in return, it was fabricated — that was obvious. “Ah... Yes that’s true.” One of his hands placed itself on the back of his neck, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh there. Stiles couldn’t stop starring at him doing so, his heart thumping in his chest at the thought of Derek doing something similar across his heart or his own neck. He shook his head to stop the thought from pervading his mind.

“Stiles has told me your rebuilding your familial home, so you’ve reclaimed the property rights from your family trust?”

“Yes, Sheriff. I’ve finally had enough courage to speak with the lawyers since Peter went missing. Finally, I’ve had the family money released.”

“Good. Good. With all that you still think you want to stay in Beacon Hills with all the memories,” the sheriff asked.

“My family, even if they’re dead are here, and I grew up here. I’m sentimental,” Derek said.

“Any career options?”

Stiles stopped fidgeting for a moment there, already having stopped breathing momentary when his father asked if Derek was staying in town. Both older men in the room noticed the hitch in breath and the stopping of squirming.

“Mechanic maybe? I’ve always been good with cars, but who knows. After the house is built I’ll see what is available.”

Stiles’ father nodded, taking a couple of seconds to think of what he wanted to stay. “I have no clue where you’ve been staying before hand, and I’d like to know how you’ve met my son. Your in your twenties.”

“Even though the Hale property reverted, temporarily, back to the State, I usually took runs there particularly in the mornings. Your son, and Scott on several occasions have been around there. First I had found an inhaler, Scott dropped, and I presumed that someone would come to retrieve it, that or I was going to go to the hospital. And second time it was when they were finding the body of my sister. And many times after. Eventually we just got to talking.”

“Stiles is seventeen,” his father said. 

“Dad!” Stiles grumbled. “Archaic,” he coughed under his breath.

Derek looked grim for a moment, not expected a good outcome. He said nothing, not truly understand his own feels nor wanting to ruin anything between Stiles and his father.... Or for that matter go to jail. 

“You’re welcome to stay here,” the sheriff said. He took a moment before speaking again.

“I’d appreciate that, it’d be a welcome change from motels outside of town,” Derek said. The sheriff had known beforehand that the Hale money was secured in a trust for Derek, but he’d have to claim it and Peter, even in his state was the executer.

“I’ll go make the guest bed,” Stiles said, a jaw-wide smile on his face as he hopped from where he had been sitting and ran up the stairs lingering at the top of the stairs before yelling down. “Offer him a drink or something dad!”

The sheriff grumbled as if his son was always reminding him of something. Derek put the hand that had been on the back of his neck to his face. Stiles, he had a way of pushing everyone to their limits of generosity. 

“Listen, I know I cannot prevent anything happening between you two. And from what I see Stiles is happy, and I haven’t seen him this way since his mother died. I just want to make this clear, absolutely clear consent on both parts is necessary.” He paused. “Enough of this business. It’s awkward and we both know it. So go in the fridge there is beer, you can get me one as well, and we can talk about New York, or why you want to be a mechanic. But whatever it is, as long as it doesn’t have to do with this.” He threw a hand in the direction of the kitchen, having a feeling it was unnecessary. He didn’t want to know.

Derek smiled and headed in the direction. He brought them back beer; Stiles’ father had put back on the game he was watching. It had been recorded. Their internet had been a rather cheap package deal that included basic television.

Stiles then moved from the top of the stairs, having heard the entire exchange. He made up the guest bed with the spare set of sheets they had. He did his best to dust the room and ensure that the drawers were clear in the dresser. He smiled at his own work, but didn’t let linger in the thought that Derek would be sleeping so very close him. After everything, being in the company of the werewolf sent his heart palpitating and his mind going to places fraught with desire and love. Love, the word itself was foreign to him in the context of another human outside of his family, which did include Scott and his mother. It felt seemingly unnatural for a moment, but the thought of Derek’s mouth on his, and his heart knew it was right. 

He could hear the television and the cheers of the two when there was something going on that was important to the sport. Stiles didn’t spend much time on any other sport other than lacrosse, nor could he sit still long enough to watch any sport on television. Stiles smiled, his heart warming and he chose to sit on the top step of the stairs. Listening, just listening.

“Hungry?” Stiles’ father asked Derek.

“I could eat,” Derek said timidly. It was odd for Stiles to hear that tone in his voice. It was as if in respect for Stiles’ father he reverted to a state when he was younger and had a father to use that tone with. That sunk Stiles heart. He had wished Derek had his family, because he had faith that by the work of the Fates they would be together. Maybe Derek wouldn’t be so closed off, and maybe he would be able to not hold so much regret in his large hands. Stiles knew something about regret, loss, love, death — they were old companions. Stiles remembered losing his mother; he could even imagine what it would be like to lose his entire family. Sure Derek had Peter, although his uncle had tried to kill him once and killed his sister, but they needed each other. Peter was experienced and he was well known in the werewolf community. They were the Hale pack regardless of the fact they were minimized. Their name bore weight of his mother’s pack and what they had done. It wasn’t going to fall. Stiles knew nothing of the weight of the Hale name, he just didn’t like Peter Hale. The man who had offered him the bite as if it was gift. Stiles knew it was a double-edged present. Wrapped with strength, stamina, power, but inside the uncontrollable wolf and the nature that came along with it.

“I could get Stiles to order something in? Or cook something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but Stiles manages to make things that are edible,” the sheriff said.

“I’m sure he’s busy upstairs, let me,” Derek said getting up from where he sat.

“You cook?”

“Had to learn when I was in New York,”Derek said.

“Oh.” 

“Could I please help you in the kitchen,” Stiles asked from where he sat at the top of the stairs. He knew Derek could hear him. The werewolf was his guest, he had to help somehow. “Cough once for yes. I know what we have in the fridge and I know where everything is.”

Derek coughed.

Stiles hopped up from where he sat and practically stumbled down the stairs in his hurry. He met Derek in the kitchen tiptoeing around his father as to not disturb his game. 

“I’ve bough chicken breasts and we’ve got a full spice rack,” Stiles mumbled. It was gonna make some kind of chicken-spice-thing I was gonna look something up online.

Derek opened the fridge, “Well I’ve got another idea.”

“Oh?” Stiles said curious. From what he heard Derek could cook so Stiles wasn’t going to stop him.

“Dice the chicken breasts into mouth sized pieces would you?”

“Bossy,” Stiles said. Derek chuckled as he watched the teen go to work on the chicken breasts, taking a sharp knife and slicing the chicken. The werewolf was surprised that Stiles wasn’t squeamish when it came to the slimy raw meat. 

“You couldn’t cut my arm off when I needed you to,” Derek whispered. “But you can dice raw chicken.”

“There’s no blood here, Derek, and I’m not cutting through your thick muscles and tendons,” Stiles whispered back.

“Fine,” Derek said dismissively, albeit with a bit of a chuckle.

Derek took a large iron frying pan and oiled it up with a tablespoon of olive oil. He had been cutting vegetables: onions, carrots, broccoli, and celery. Stiles had glanced behind him, watching Derek masterfully cut through the vegetables. He had to admit he was turned on by it. Derek sautéed them with freshly crushed garlic Stiles had went to once he was dealt with his chicken. He added rosemary and pepper to taste, avoiding salt like the plague. He knew how Stiles had been trying to make his father eat healthier, and even though he hadn’t told Derek that, Scott had, in passing mentioned something similar to Derek during one of their altercations since the whole Gerard incident. 

Derek spooned in some light cream cheese, once the chicken had been cooked and the veggies somewhat translucent; it wouldn’t be the healthiest food, but it wasn’t entirely bad for them either. It would be filling and loaded with vegetables. He put rice in the rice-maker and then turned to Stiles as he turned down the burner to a simmer.

Derek put his hands of Stiles’ shoulders and manoeuvred him against the counter, pressing his lips against Stiles’ before his left hand wrapped securely around the teen’s waist while his right went under his shirt, the warmth making Stiles churr, only strangled by the fact that they were kissing, mouths fully opens and tongues struggling. Derek stopped for a moment, broke the kiss only to give a chaste one before removing himself and checking on the chicken.

“Tease,” Stiles whispered.

“Food up! Or have you been too busy to finish it!” came the shout from the sheriff over the television.

“Dad,” Stiles grumbled out, embarrassed.

“Nope, it’s nearly ready,” Derek said unabashed.

Stiles walked off his growing erection by bring down three plates from the cupboard as Derek watched. The teen was unaware whether the werewolf was watching him, finding out where everything was, or both. He put the plates down near the stove, and gave Derek a light kiss. The scene was utterly domestic and neither of them really cared.

“Who knew sourwolf was a homemaker-wolf, kind of sexy,” Stiles said.

“So long as he keeps cooking I don’t mind you two canoodling even if I’m in the other room,” the sheriff said. He had been leaning against the doorframe. “Just please don’t do anything else with me around.”

Derek blushed which made Stiles take a double take. He savoured it. He longed for it to last. They all moved to the table and sat around eating. At first everything was a little awkward, they ate and that was it. 

“Derek this is delicious. Like better then curly fries.... Well... Okay I’ll give it to you,” Stiles nattered.

Derek smiled, “It was nothing,” he said, his voice dark and gruff like always.

“I think Stiles is accurately describing this meal. Thank you Derek,” the sheriff said.

Another blush, Stiles gasped for a moment.

“So tell me Derek, what do you have planned for your house?”

“I don’t want to extend the property, so it should retain a similar size and I’m going to modernize it a little to let more light. I suppose starting from scratch is a good thing.”

“From what I figure. When I was looking at you for murder,” the sheriff said.

“Dad,” Stiles grumbled again, interrupting.

“I figured that you’d have enough to make yourself comfortable.”

“Before my family died,” Derek said, the tension in his face was evident when he mentioned his family. “Mom was thinking of putting in an indoor pool.”

“That sounds cool,” Stiles said, mouth full of food.

“And now Derek you share in my torment,” the sheriff said watching his son speak with his mouthful. “A bad habit I unfortunately share. My wife.... She tried to get us to have manners.”

“I’m sure she tried her best,” Derek said. “But some people are a little too stubborn.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the sheriff said. Stiles nodded as he took a gulp of his glass of milk.

“Well that’s exciting,” the sheriff said. “And now that you’re staying here I suggest that you broaden your wardrobe. I’ve seen you around town and I swear you owe a week worth of clothes. Go to the mall the town over. Take Stiles, you’ve worn holes in your shoes from all that time in the woods fumbling whether it be from sticks, falling, or use. And you need new shirts you’ve worn holes in several. I’ll give you some money.”

“Naw that’s alright dad, Deaton’s paying me well and you’re already saving for my university intuition.”

“I’m sure you’ll get a scholarship.”

“Enough, we’ve got a guest,” Stiles said.

“He’ll be here for at least four months, I’m sure Derek will get used to it.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said, smiling softly. “Reminds me of when I had a family.”

 

***

The next morning came rather abruptly, Stiles had fallen asleep right after diner, his body still trying to mend itself physically while his mind was attempting reparations of the emotional trauma from both his abduction, beating, and the loss of Lydia. She burnt out his crush, but whether he knew it or not, she had left him with room, to love another. Stiles was attracted to Derek, and he had been curious about his sexuality and Derek showed that he cared for Stiles. The teen needed someone to care about him, to want him, to want him safe. Stiles knew he was annoying to Derek, but he had saved Derek’s life and he had done research. 

The sun rose, and within a couple of hours Derek woke from his slumber, but Stiles remained asleep. Derek was up and had made coffee and scrambled eggs and toast for three. Stiles’ father, Derek could hear, was getting up when he had finished breakfast. The sheriff came down, smiled, and thought it wasn’t as bad of a decision to have Derek stay here. He was still uneasy about the fact that his son had become involved with someone much older than him, considering the laws in the States. He knew the laws were antiquated, Canada had no problem with it, but he had to obey the laws, didn’t he? And if he forgave them, what could he do? He was confused on that point, but he wasn’t going to come between his son and what he loved. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

“Smells heavenly.”

“Thank you,” Derek said.

“Thinking of going to the mall I take it?”

“I usually get up early, but at quarter passed nine I’ll get Stiles up and we’ll be back before three, I’ve got a call set up then talking to the contractor.”

“Very good,” the sheriff said. He shoved a piece of toast in his mouth and was enjoying his meal. He poured himself a cup of coffee into a travel mug and was getting himself ready. Derek, contrarily, just sat down and ate. It was around eight and thirty minutes later Stiles’ father said goodbye and was off to deal with the unknown aspects of the whole Gerard incident or the Peter problem. From the sheriff’s perspective Gerard had simply disappeared and the family couldn’t acknowledge that he had gone because a body could appear or evidence of his presence, and Peter had simply disappeared from the hospital. The mayor was concerned, but not entirely breathing down his neck because Chris said that Gerard had been prone to hunting. The mayor to was not concerned because a substitute principle, Ms Morrell had gladly taken up the position. She could do both roles, and she allowed the English teacher, Aidan Knight, to also take up some of her guidance obligations. 

Derek heard the police cruiser rev, and he glanced at the clock before deciding that he wasn’t going to wait to wake Stiles. He cleared away the sheriff’s plate and his own, leaving Stiles plate sitting on the counter, the heating being retained by another plate Derek had placed on top of it. Walking up the stairs without making a noise to Stiles could have been impossible, but Derek was nimble in a superhuman kind of way and managed to get up without a single step squeaking.

Stiles was splayed across his bed, his face slightly to the left to breathe against his pillow. The duvet was only half covering him. Derek took a perverse enjoyment of Stiles reaction once he threw the covers from him. He woke up with a start and nearly fell out of his bed. His eyes took time to adjust, but he was frowning regardless of his sight.

“What the hell!” Stiles shouted, a delayed reaction. “It’s freezing.”

“Come on,” Derek said, he attempted to be more enthusiastic, but he didn’t like shopping, but Stiles’ father had suggested this and it was true that he needed clothing. The wolf’s carnivorous eyes devoured Stiles’ body, following the curves hungrily wanting more than Derek himself was comfortable at that moment taking. He was a guest in the Stilinski home; he also was still uncomfortable being intimate with other people particularly since the last girl he had been with had destroyed his family. His wolf wanted Stiles, it was a primal need as if his wolf had already given this consideration and chose Stiles to be the direct opposite — the perfect balance. Stiles was attractive, Derek could admit that to himself.

“But Derek,” Stiles protested. He fished under his pillow and retrieved his mobile, “It’s not even nine Derek!”

Derek watched Stiles’ mouth as the teen spoke. “I know but I’ve got to get home by three. The contractor will be coming, and I have a feeling that the thirty minute drive to the mall the town over is not going to take as long as finding both of us new clothes.”

“I’ll go have a shower then,” Stiles said picking himself off his bed, stretching by elongating his arms high above his head. He yawned, as he stood directly in front of Derek. “Want to come with me?” It was bold even for Stiles, and part of Derek didn’t want to refuse.

“Maybe next time,” Derek said, purposefully having a growl-rumble infused in his voice. It was sexy, or so found Stiles, and Derek knew it. Stiles sighed audibly.

“Unfair, Derek,” Stiles said, exasperated. Derek could smell that Stiles was aroused. “You’ll hear me.”

“I know,” Derek said, mischievously. He turned around before Stiles could see the growing bulge in his jeans. 

“Derek,” Stiles groaned.

Derek turned around quickly and closed the distance between them. He pressed his lips against Stiles’, wrapped his hand around Stiles’ waist, and plunged his tongue into the teen’s mouth. Their tongues twisted together and Stiles seemingly instinctually, took Derek’s lower lip into his mouth, apply suction.

Stiles broke the kiss, but they both stood there their lips only fractions apart, their breathes intermingling as they breathed heavily. “Unfair,” Stiles muttered.

“I know, you know I’ve got problems with intimacy,” Derek said, not being his typical evasive self. 

Stiles felt Derek’s words reverberating against him, they were that close. Stiles gave a soft, warm smile and pressed his lips back against Derek before pulling away, brushing a hand against Derek’s stumble cheek, enjoying the friction.

He sauntered away, being remarkably graceful as he walked toward the bathroom. He turned around momentarily, “I’m new to this and your damaged. We’ll be alright.” He walked out, and Derek could hear Stiles yelp as he stubbed his toe against one of the walls. Derek chuckled. “Shut up sourwolf!” Stiles yelled.

Derek sat on Stiles’ bed for a moment, while he listened to the water start to run. He could hear Stiles sigh as the warm water rushed over his naked body. He thought, for just a moment, about being there next to him and begin behind him in tight shower stall. Touching him instead of Stiles’ palming his growing erection. Derek groaned, he wanted release, but he wasn’t going to do that here on Stiles’ bed, even though he wanted to. He wanted to wait until Stiles could be present and if he was going to touch himself, he’d do it while no one was around. That’s how in normally dealt with pent up sexual frustration. He wanted to be intimate with Stiles, he honestly did, but he needed time to confront himself, to deal with the fact that Stiles was not Kate. He was everything she wasn’t. Kind, warm, loving, just, fair, etc.... Derek smiled. He knew Stiles wasn’t like her, that he wouldn’t betray him and yet the damage had been done and emotional trauma take seconds to manifest and years to repair.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered and panted in the shower. His heartbeat was quickening and when Stiles gasped and moaned when he came, Derek wanted to tear Stiles’ pillow apart, but instead just punched it. Wanting to alleviate some of the frustration. He quickly went downstairs, to avoid a naked Stiles. He knew it was hard to not jump Stiles when he was clothed. God knows what he would do if he saw Stiles naked.

He sat in the kitchen contemplating, hearing Stiles get out of the bathroom and going to his room to get dressed. While he waited he thought about when he was a teenager. He had had grown up with family members who were older than himself having girlfriends or such, and so he thought it was normal. To have a girlfriend and in middle school “gay” had been a term doled out to things that were uncool and derogatorily. If you were homosexual you were ostracized, humiliated, and/or bullied, particularly if you weren’t, even in the slightest, able to defend yourself, or afraid to defend when you could tear them apart. But Derek at the time thought he was attracted to women, maybe he was. Although now he wasn’t sure. He was attracted to Stiles, they way his body moved, they way he smiled, even (sometimes) the way he talked. Stiles, he wanted him so bad, and he knew that Stiles want him. Maybe Kate had ruined his sexual preference, or had he always been bisexual. Was he gay now? Did it matter? 

“Ready to go sourwolf?” Stiles said coming into the room. He could tell something was up, but being Stiles, he bounced into the room and wrapped his arms around Derek, while he was still sitting. “What are you thinking about wolfy.” Derek growled. “My wolfy?” Stiles tested. His werewolf smiled.

“Nothing,” Derek said. “C’mon let’s go. We’ll get there by nine-forty if we leave now.”

Not even five minutes into the drive Stiles’ fidgeting grew more noticeable then his tapping. He started to fiddle with the radio, and Derek let him. He found a channel after a good five minutes of searching. The ride was silent, just the music. 

Fifteen minutes, five minutes or so from the mall, Derek finally spoke. “Did you take your adderall?”

“No.”

“Stiles,” Derek chided.

“It’s usually a lot worse. Be glad I wasn’t playing with the windows, or the glove compartment,” Stiles admitted.

“You should have taken your meds, Stiles,” Derek said. The teen could hear his disapproval when he spoke his name and that made him feel worse.

“Hey! It’s not my fault I was hurried out of the house.”

Derek sighed, Stiles interpreted it as, great now I have to look after a hyperactive teen that I kissed and is probably taking this way to seriously. He glance between his legs for a moment, disguising a look of sadness, before looking back up with a smile, just as they were pulling into a parking space at the mall. “Let’s start with my new shoes. I get the same kind, they’re comfortable and flats so I don’t have added height to fall from when I fall over myself.”

Derek chuckled. Stiles did more interpreting. “Okay.”

They walked into the mall, and if Stiles had a bit more courage, if he didn’t want to make Derek uncomfortable, and if he didn’t want Derek to shut him out completely forever, he would hold his hand. An older leather-jacketed wolf and a red-sweatered teen, ironic in an archetypal meet Grimm kind of way with a dash of romantic interest, or at least Stiles hoped. 

In the crowd they were not noticed and they walked into the store, Stiles quickly approached someone. He was direct and quick, size eleven and a half converse black and white. The guy went back into the storage area, while Stiles went over to a seat and waited. Derek followed, he didn’t sit, but he watched everyone, his eyes following them, looking for a potential threat. Theoretically alphas could be around, even though Derek doubted it. The employee returned with the converse box. Stiles tried them on, perfect fit, slid them back into the box. “They’re perfect, thank you,” Stiles said to the assistant. He turned to Derek, “Do you need new shoes?”

“No,” Derek said, giving the assistant some form of look that forced him away. “When I got into town,” he offered. “I got a new pair and since then a couple of others. You know you’re supposed to replace your shoes every six months or so.”

“Yah, yah, “ Stiles grumbled.

“Let me go pay for this, and then we go get some clothes, okay?”

The wolf scowled, but said nothing. The shoes were slightly expensive, taking about a third of his clothing fund. His father had given him fifty, and he had two hundred and fifty dollars. He was only planning on spending only a hundred, maybe one-fifty. 

“Where’s the best place to get something ah,” Derek said. “To get formal clothes.”

“Just because I love you sourwolf, doesn’t mean I’m familiar with brands,” Stiles said.

Derek tensed, the word love causing him to open questions again. Stiles over-read into that. 

“Well I know that mom got dad a tie from Armani that was rather expensive. I remember that she took so many odd jobs to be able to afford it. Since then dad calls it his lucky tie,” Stiles said, over sharing as was his nature. 

“They have one here?” Derek asked as they walked.

Stiles ran toward a map to double check, “Yep,” he said as he return to Derek’s side in a flash. “It’s this way, around the bend to the left.”

They were in the Armani Exchange, Stiles looked at the prices and knew he couldn’t afford to buy practically anything. Sure the t-shirts were thirty dollars, but he could go to another store in the mall and pick up three shirts, or maybe even six depending on the sales. He looked at a couple in slight longing, one or two, one had a coke-logo across the chest with a slight and another with an eagle, oh and there was a nearly translucent and light knit top that dark crimson red with a heavy brown undertone. It had draw strings and a hood, it was perfect, but too expensive.

“I don’t know what to get,” Derek said, he was out of his depths, Stiles could tell. He also knew that Derek wasn’t happy shopping but he knew he needed clothes. 

“You want form fitting jacket and well done pants. The dress shirt is what you want to use for focus, so a colour that isn’t too bold, with a black tie, typically,” Stiles said.

Stiles went around showing Derek the racks for the suit jackets and the dress pants. Derek picked out his size, and then Stiles went to the dress shirts and showed Derek a light purple, green, grey, and even a white one. Derek went behind him, scooping up what he was told. He fumbled with ones that were too small with Derek, the werewolf knowing it was a trigger when he found his own size. It was amazing that Stiles could retain so much including Derek’s measurements only moments ago told, and move so quickly. They went to ties and Stiles picked two black, one a handsome rich-nearly-jewel tone brown that would bring out Derek’s eyes, and a grey one.

“You also need at least a pair of leather shoes, two if you want to keep them longer through alternating,” Stiles said. “Dad has about four he goes through.”

“Two then,” Derek said. He looked at a couple of a pairs of shoes and asked Stiles his opinion. He nodded and suggested a one of them that look more in Stiles’ style, but Derek said that it had too much support at the ankle, it wasn’t comfortable for him.

Stiles sat in front of one of the dressing rooms and Derek ducked in, closing the door and changing into a set of the pants, put on a tie rather poorly, and tried on one pair of shoes. He walked out and Stiles gave him a once over, gave a thumbs up in approval. Stiles, got up, and fixed his wolf’s tie; Derek looked so very handsome and Stiles licked his lips at the thoughts he was having. Derek went back changed, and this process occurred until everything was tried on and was approved, it all was, but Stiles thought that Derek somehow needed the approval because he wasn’t used to wearing such formal clothes. He thought that his wolf had probably only been dressed in such a way for his family’s funeral.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Stiles said, handing over the bag that contained his shoes to Derek. “Be right back, don’t leave the store, but go pay for these would you.” Stiles bounced out of the store and headed toward the bathrooms. Derek was slightly nervous, but there wasn’t any sign of the alphas and his rational mind knew that they wouldn’t go to a crowded mall, even if it was only a small mall. The werewolf quickly went around the store picking up a few more items before returning to the cashier and paying for everything. He came to a rather steep total, but Derek could afford it and he had to admit he thought he looked rather sharp in the dress clothes.

Stiles returned quickly and they went off to the next store, something more in his price range, and Derek could buy cheaper shirts that could be torn and bled on. There was indeed a sale and so Stiles was busily running around the store picking up several shirts and picking up many for Derek. Several black and grey t-shirts, and one sepia coloured one with a moon that had the lyrics from Ella Fitzgerald’s Moon ray, “Moon ray cast your spell upon my lover” that Derek assumed Stiles had only picked up for him so that he could borrow a shirt. He smiled and told Stiles he liked it. I mean, he didn’t not like it, it was slightly more in Stiles’ wheelhouse, but he smiled and put it under his arm. Stiles picked up a couple of shirts he was unsure about and said he needed to try them on, but first he saw a couple of jeans and selected a pair of belts for the pair of them.

Stiles was in the changing room, trying on a couple of shirts when he heard Derek chuckle. He stood on his tiptoes. Derek was chatting with a cashier; she was pretty, blonde with blue eyes, and flirtatious. Stiles grew irritated, angry even, and was feeling something new — jealousy. Derek smiled, he could tell and she giggled under her breath. Stiles dropped to his flat-feet before going back up. The cashier girl had her arm on Derek’s left bicep and Stiles slumped against a wall for a moment. Derek looked happy, or at least his smile fooled him into thinking so. He pouted and felt the insecurity that came with a life where he always felt inadequate. He came out, having tried on every shirt in the privacy of the changing room and walked out happy with his choices. Derek already had his stuff on the cashier desk and when Stiles came behind Derek and put his stuff next to his the girl quickly started to scan his items.

“This is separate,” Stiles said suddenly.

“Don’t be silly,” Derek said. “I’ve got this.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Stiles said.

Derek let one of his hands squeeze Stiles’ arm. “Let me.”

Stiles sighed outwardly, huffing out air, and frowning. He knew he couldn’t stop Derek, but he wasn’t happy about it, and he was still angry about the flirting. Derek had shown interest in him, but maybe after spending a couple of days with him had changed his mind. Even if this morning was filled with sexual tension, it was probably just reciprocation. Stiles walked out, and Derek following having payed for the clothes and grabbing the bag. 

They neared the car, when Derek caught up; he reached for Stiles, pulling him back in confrontation. “Just stop,” Derek said.

“Why? We’re leaving aren’t we?” Stiles replied curtly. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen in the bathroom?”

“No! But why don’t you ask that girl, what did her name tag say... Britney. You guys look so damn close,” Stiles shouted.

“Stiles!” Derek protested.

“Save it!” Stiles walked past Derek’s car. “Forget it! I take the bus back.” He could hear the sniffles in his voice, but he didn’t care.

“Stiles wait. She said,” Derek said, Stiles look behind him to see the werewolf blush.

“What’s she say?” Stiles asked.

“She said that...” Derek paused. “That we make a good couple, that we look cute together. That was after she hit on me and I said I was with my boyfriend.”

Stiles blushed, “You said that?” He sniffled.

“You thought that I was, ah, hitting on her?” Derek said, confused.

“She’s attractive, and she touched you and you were smiling, and....” Stiles said. He was interrupted by Derek pressing his lips to Stiles’, right in the middle of the parking lot. A couple people stared, but Derek didn’t care. He smiled into Stiles, and kept the pressure there. Stiles broke their kiss.

“Come on, we don’t want you to be late for that call and I suppose meeting since you could take a call anywhere,” Stiles said. The teen got in the car, Derek put the bags in the trunk, then got into the car and started to drive. “So you like jazz?” Stiles added.

“Yes, why?”

“You didn’t ask about the lyrics on the shirt.”

“My mother loved music and always played music almost every day,” Derek admitted.

“I see,” Stiles said. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that you bought my clothes. I’m still mad.”

“Mad that I stopped you from spending money?”

“Mad that you spent money on me,” Stiles said.

“Your upset that I wanted to buy you things,” Derek said.

“Well yes.”

“But isn’t that what people do when they love someone?”

“You love me?” Stiles asked.

Derek blushed, and Stiles smiled. “I...”

“Wait!” Stiles interjects. “You don’t have to say anything, you have a terrible way with words.”

Derek smiled, “Fine. So you’ll let me buying groceries slide too?”

“You bought groceries? When the hell did you do that?”

“I haven’t yet, but I think we used all the meat in your fridge yesterday. It’s the least I could do.”

Stiles grumbled, “I doubt I could convince you to let me buy groceries, but honestly Derek my dad will take offence if he notices.”

“Then we keep our mouths shut,” Derek said with a cocky smile.

“Or at least make a good excuse,” Stiles said blushing. They stopped at a stoplight, and Stiles stretched so that he was closer to Derek and with his own arm brought Derek closer into a kiss, with one eye glued to the traffic light. His tongue searched the inside of Derek’s mouth longingly before he let go just before the light turned green.

“What was that for,” Derek said nearly out of breath.

“It’s rather romantic,” Stiles said.

“What is?”

“The fact you want to be my sugarwolf.”

“Sugarwolf?”

“Like sugar-daddy, but sugar wolf,” Stiles answered.

“Oh.”

“Well I don’t think,” Stiles fumbled over his words. “It’s not like you’re that much older than I am, and I mean your not trading money for sexual favours, although you could.”

“Stiles....”

“I just mean it like your buying me things, and I’m giving you nothing in return.”

“First and foremost you don’t have to give me anything,” Derek stated. “And you and your dad have been nothing but generous. Letting me stay with you guys even though technically you’re a minor and I’m an adult. Letting me stay even though I was under suspicion of murder. Yet your dad listened to your plea and let me stay with you.”

Stiles smiled. “At least let me thank you,” Stiles said. He reached over to Derek’s thigh, feeling him up, and using his nimble, slightly unstable fingers, to undo the werewolf’s belt. He slid the zipper down and let his hands into Derek’s pants, gripping around his wolfy’s clothed penis. Derek’s breath caught and he growled slightly when Stiles began to slide his hand up and down. Stiles could adjust his hand so that his thumb was pressed against the head and feeling the wetness there. “Wolfy wants Stiles, hm?” Stiles churred.

Derek growled under his breath, finding it hard to focus on driving, but he managed. He bucked his hips up into Stiles’ hand enjoying the friction and the noises his werewolf was making.

“Stiles,” Derek managed to get out through his laboured breathing.

“Wolfy,” Stiles answers, seemingly coyly.

“I want you,” the wolf moans out as Stiles adjusts and continues moving along Derek’s growing length.

“I’d get on my knees, but your car doesn’t have a lot of leg room and if a cop saw my dad would know,” Stiles said. “But we could get home and....” Derek let out a moan that broke Stiles concentration on speech, he manoeuvred his hands under his werewolf’s underwear; feeling the elastic cling against his hand as he felt all of Derek’s massive length crane and peaked well above his fly. 

Derek’s phone rang, Stiles could feel the vibration from where he jerked his werewolf. Stiles stopped, removed his hand (which made Derek growl disapprovingly), and with his other hand withdrew the interrupting phone and answered, “Derek Hale’s mobile.”

“Oh! Hey Isaac. No Derek’s driving. Yah sourwolf’s been living with me. Did you know he cooks. You did, you should have told me Isaac. Where have you been staying. Oh with Erica that’s nice. I thought her and.... Yah yah okay. Pack meeting, oh with the contractor.”

“Stiles I can answer my own phone.”

“No wolfy that’s illegal. Yes I just called him wolfy. If you want I can come up with a nickname for you.” Derek growled. “Yah Derek doesn’t like that idea, apparently it must be a special thing between human and alpha.” Stiles laughed. “Okay, tell the rest of the pack that we’ll be meeting here before driving to Derek’s house for the meeting with the contractor.” Stiles hung up the phone.

“Apparently our pack is coming over to my house,” Stiles said with a smile.

Derek smiles, “Our pack huh?”

“Yes our pack,” Stiles says defensively.

“I like the way that sounds,” Derek said, his wolf agreeing as signalled by a peek in alpha pheromones.

“Good, because you’ll have to get used to it,” Stiles said.

Stiles helped Derek push himself back into his pants, he had softened slightly from the lack of fiction, and the teen zipped him back up and refastened Derek’s belt. 

“Your rather good at that,” Derek said. “One might think that you’ve had experience with this sort of thing.”

“You do know I’m good at research, and me and the internet are much good friends. Almost as good as me and curly fries. And I know how to make myself, ah you know. So I guess it translates. And besides I want to become better acquainted to little Derek — well not so little Derek.”

“Stiles,” Derek grumbled, he blushed, and Stiles smiled.

They pulled behind Stiles’ jeep and they got out of the car. Derek took a moment to adjust himself, hike up his pants, before pulling the bags out the trunk and locking his car while Stiles opened the front door. They quickly headed up to Stiles room to divide the purchases. 

“One might think I dragged you up here to have my way with you,” Stiles said.

“And I want to, but our pack is on their way.”

Stiles pulled out his converse box and pulled them on to his socked feet, perfect fit, and they were comfortable. He let Derek sort of the rest, checking his text messages to ensure that Scott hadn’t left any messages. They hadn’t been speaking, mostly because he was busy trying to get Allison back. If fact he had only had a couple of days left before he would have to go back to work at Deaton’s veterinary clinic. In fact he was helpful at Deaton’s, he helped with the animals, dogs always liked him. They kept Stiles away from surgeries and stuff like that, but he was alright with feeding and other such daily chores. He looked up from his phone to notice the clothes that Derek had stacked on his pile. Sitting there was the coke logo, the eagle, the crimson knit hooded sweater, a couple sets of dress clothes, ties, belts, a the shoes that they were looking, and underwear.

“Derek,” Stiles said, his voice loaded with frustration. “I can’t accept these.”

Derek approached Stiles, pulling him into a tight hug pressing his mouth against Stiles chastely. “I wanted to get you things because I love you,” Derek said. “I love. I love.” He repeated the word getting used to it. “I love you.”

“Well if that’s the case,” Stiles said, blushing. “I could let this go.” Stiles kisses Derek’s lips, before moving toward the clothes, “I’ll wash everything,” Stiles said reading all the labels. “Luckily it appears that everything washable even the jackets. Obviously not the ties, they’re silk. I’ll leave a set of formal clothes out, you should wear those for the meeting. Appear to be professional.”

“Won’t be necessary, Peter told me about a family friend who’s pack does house building for families like mine,” Derek said. “The formal clothes are in case I have to deal with humans.”

“I see, and why did you buy me all this?”

“Well we could go out to restaurants or who knows what else, and you’d look handsome,” Derek said. 

“Well then I’ll wash everything, and we can go to this pack meeting,” Stiles said. He took all the washing in the house, checked Derek’s room, and his father’s before heading to the laundry room that was nearest to Derek’s room. He separated loads, they had arrived home earlier enough he could at least get the dark load and the underwear load. So Stiles quickly put the first load together. Finishing it, putting it the dryer, putting the second load into the wash. The dryer finished. The washer finished. New load in the dryer. Stiles folded the underwear quickly, knowing which was his own, which was his father’s, it appeared Derek hadn’t put any out, but it did explain why he had bought at least twenty pairs of underwear for the both of them. He had washed all of them. Stiles was glad that he could fit everything in the washer for the dark load because Derek had bought at least fifteen shirts that were cheap, those dress shirts too, not to mention some from Armani, and at least twenty jeans. He folded everything, drop his father’s clothes in his room, and went back to find Derek lying in his bed waiting.

He put down the two stacks of clothes, pulling out from Derek’s pile underwear, jeans, and a grey shirt, and rummaged through his closet to find a new pack of socks and put it on Derek’s pile after taking a pair out and putting it on the pile of what he selected.

Stiles positioned himself on top of Derek, who wrapped his arms around the teen and pressed a kiss against his neck. He rubbed his face against Stiles’ chest, breathing him in, and smiling into the soft flesh of the teen’s collarbone. He left several kisses over Stiles’ body, nipping against the flesh here and there, and occasionally leaving marks where Derek had applied suction against the flesh near Stiles’ neck, which would undoubtedly be seen even while he was wearing a shirt.

“Derek,” Stiles said giggling, he was ticklish around his neck, particularly when stubble grazed him. Derek’s phone started to ring, the vibrations making Stiles even more aware of his own erection and the fact that Derek’s had been grinding into him. “I swear that your phone is part of your plan to cock tease me, wolfy.”

Derek took a couple of deep breaths regaining a normal breathing rate, then picked up the phone, “Alex?” There was a pause. “I’m getting my pack together and we’ll be out in the next thirty minutes see you there, thank you.” He paused and pushed his head back into the pillow to look at Stiles, “We’ll have to get ready to go.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. Picking himself up and then helping Derek to stand. He slid his hands underneath Derek’s jacket and slid it off him, then his shirt, followed by taking Derek’s belt off, and sliding his pants down to pool at his ankles. Derek’s stepped out of them, while the bulge in his underwear grew at the proximity to Stiles’ hands. The teen went over to the clothes he had selected for Derek and shoved them into his chest, letting his werewolf grab them before he pulled away picked up Derek’s clothes and putting them into his hamper.

He returned to Derek’s side. His wolfy was naked, slipping on his new underwear, they were red boxer-briefs that were form fitting. Stiles quickly pulled off his shirt before tossing it into the hamper then going to his stack of clothes and pulling out the white t-shirt with the coke logo, new jeans, belt, and teal boxer-briefs. He stripped out his clothes, enjoy Derek’s eyes on his body. They both dressed and headed out to find the pack arriving.

Boyd and Erica arrived in Boyd’s car, Isaac appeared to have walked, Scott with Allison in Scott’s car, and Jackson with Lydia in Jackson’s car. It had appeared that Allison had spoken with Scott, and it pained Stiles slightly to see Lydia with Jackson, but as if to get even he grew closer to Derek. He looked at his werewolf — their alpha with a loving look that no one really noticed, well besides Derek. He licked his lips and listened to Derek tell them that they’ll be meeting with the contractor in a couple of minutes and to be on their best behaviour because another pack would be coming into their territory to do the construction that would be reenforced and done quickly and done the very best.

They all headed out toward the car, Erica however took a moment to look back at Stiles and Derek before she got in the car and they were off. 

“Arguing might be good for relationships, but I’m too concerned thinking about your body, I doubt I could drive. So I think it best you drive,” Stiles said.

“Stiles!... Fine.”

When they arrived a man got out of a truck, he was in his mid-forties, greying with a beard that made him look rugged. He had a big build and most certainly was larger than Derek, but was less toned. He smiled when Derek got out of his car, Stiles following and keeping by his side; he did this without asking, as if instinctually Stiles knew that he had to stand by Derek to be protected even if this new werewolf was an alley of sorts. He also thought that he was being supportive, and maybe if he was being honest he wanted to show that he was Derek’s. The rest of the pack, approached then and listened.

“Good to see you again, Alex,” Derek said.

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Alex said. “Looks like you’ve built another pack though.”

“They need a little work, but we’ve held our own,” Derek replied.

“So you’ve sent me plans for the house, pool, and a basement with wine cellar and room to keep werewolves during the full moon,” Alex said. 

“And a gourmet kitchen and a family room and den as large as before, but with windows floor to ceiling,” Derek added.

“All good. Your pack knows then that my entire crew are werewolves and it might be best that they stay away, except for you and your mate, of course.”

“Mate,” Scott said, shocked. Not know who Alex was referring for he had been busily playing footsie with Allison.

Alex doesn’t register Scott’s comment, but smiles and pats Derek on the shoulder before heading toward his truck. “We start tomorrow, I’ll have all the lumber and trucks here. Everything we need to get things started of course. We’ll speak with you and your mate on the finer details when we get to them, about August. It’ll take the rest of June and July to clear out all that is left of the old house and do everything up to modern standards and above to ensure that this house will be perfect.”

“Thank you,” Derek said.

“Oh and Derek,” Alex said approaching Stiles’ werewolf. He whispered out of other werewolf’s hearing, “You’ve got a lot of humans in this pack, particularly since they weren’t born by werewolf parents or parent. I suggest you scent and bond your mate. There are some other werewolves that don’t have great olfactory sense as I do. They might not recognize that he’s your mate and try to get to you through him without knowing that he’s more than an omega. Or someone could come into town and be attracted to him and not know he’s your, or what else have you. You know that.”

“Thank you again, Alex,” Derek said, walking with him to his truck before letting the man leave. Stiles smiled at Alex, “Thank you for coming. I look forward to helping you fine tune Derek’s home.”

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Stilinski,” Alex said, getting into his truck and starting the engine. He waved goodbye and quickly departed.

“He probably googled the sheriff in town,” Derek said, as he watched the truck drove away.

“So what’s all this mate business?” Jackson asked.

“It’s a term referring to an animals’ partner, he was just teasing Derek,” Stiles said dismissively. 

“Come on Lydia, let’s go,” Jackson said.

“Come on Scott, Allison, you promised we’d double date,” Lydia said, eyeing Stiles for just a moment before grabbing Jackson’s hand and towing him toward his car, whilst Jackson grumbled all the way there.

“Well we’re heading off,” Boyd said. Erica glanced at Stiles momentarily, smiling knowingly, before she left. Isaac stayed, and Scott turned to Allison who said that he’d meet her in the car and they’d go on that date with Lydia and Jackson.

“Stiles,” Scott said, once Allison was out of earshot.

“Yes, Scott?” Stiles said, acting oblivious.

“When this Alex guy said mate he meant you?” Scott said, glaring at Derek accusingly.

“I was going to talk to about that Scott, but you’ve been completely been obsessing with Allison, and I can’t even get a word in edge wise, which for me is ridiculous. Almost as hilarious when you and I broke into that gay club that one time.”

“Gay club?” Derek asked.

“Nothing happened,” Stiles said.

“So you didn’t want to tell me because you thought I was too busy to deal with you?”

“You don’t care and what is it to you if I’m fucking Derek or not, and so what if I love him, do you have a problem with that Scott,” Stiles shouted. Scott paled and Isaac turned to leave, he had wanted to talk to Derek as his alpha. “Not going to comment? And Isaac stay!”

“You’re sleeping with Derek?!” Scott shrieked.

“Well... Not yet, but it doesn’t matter? I love him!” Stiles said.

“How could you love Derek! He ruined both of our lives and Peter... Peter’s related to him and...” Scott stumbled.

Derek and Isaac looked caught between a rock and hard place, and as werewolves that felt rather silly, but they stood there silent. Derek was containing his anger, Stiles was his and Scott was being aggressive toward him. He tamed his wolf, thank god it wasn’t too close to the full moon.

“I love him because he’s kind, he loves me, he respects me, he’s handsome, he wants me, and did I mention that he’s fucking gorgeous. You’ve seen him and I’ve seen him. So you really need to back off! Not to mention he understands loss.... Do you know what it feels like, to lose some.”

“Stiles! He’s hit you, beaten...”

“He’s saved me! Loves me. And sure we’ve had a physical relationship before and now I love him. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Stiles!” Scott said, angry, flustered. “I don’t know what to say to you.” He started walking away and reached his car.

“Then don’t say anything. Just go hang out with Isaac, and Jackson, Lydia and Allison. Just go!”

Scott closed the car door loudly and drove off in a hurry. Stiles was left with Isaac and Derek.

“I don’t want to be the cause of this fight,” Derek said.

“Scott needs to get used to this. I love you,” Stiles replied.

“Well I’m glad for you too,” Isaac said. “Took you long enough.”

Derek growled, but Stiles put a stop to that with a quick slap to Derek’s shoulder. “Thanks Isaac. My dad told me before Derek was staying with me that he was looking into what to do with you. You’re still a minor....”

“So are you, but I know what you’re getting at,” Isaac said.

“What’s he getting at?” Derek asked. “I’m not familiar with laws.”

“He’s suggesting that I emancipate himself from the necessary bonds of parental requirements,” Isaac said as if he had rehearsed it.

“Or Derek could adopt you. You don’t have any family do you?”

“No,” Isaac said. “All I had was my father.”

“Well it might be best if we talk with my father, but I’ve been doing my research. I suggest that you get Erica’s parents. You’ve been staying with them right?”

“Yes,” Isaac said clueless, he glanced at Derek for reassurance, but only to be met with a shrug.

“Get them to write a letter for you explain that you’re comfortable on your own, and I’ll get Deaton to give you a job. And your father left his money to you, so you could theoretically keep your house. All this will give you grounds for an emancipation.”

“Thanks Stiles, I’m glad that we’ve got at least someone familiar with law and research for the pack,” Isaac said, smiling. “Derek would you give me a ride back into town?”

“Sure,” Derek said.

“Isaac, you’re pack. I won’t have us separated,” Stiles said.

Isaac smile widened as he headed to Derek’s car. Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek’s, holding his hand, and walking toward the car. “You’re good with Isaac,” Derek said, much like a protective older brother.

“We protect our own, don’t we?” Stiles answered.

“We do, but you know I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“I’ll be in danger, that is inevitable, but you need to know that I’ll always come back to you. So you’re not going to try to keep me from things, from anything. You’re not going to let me being just human effect your choices.”

“Okay, okay,” Derek said. “But you’re fragile you know right?”

“I can take a little werewolven abuse,” Stiles said. “And a hell of a lot more in bed,” Stiles added in a whisper to avoid Isaac hearing him, or at least he hoped so.

“Stiles!” Derek said sharply. 

“What!?”

Isaac looked sheepishly in their direction. Derek broke free from Stiles’ arm and opened his car. Isaac hopped into the back, while Derek and Stiles got into the car.

“Want to come grocery shopping with us?” Stiles asks as they drive back toward town.

Derek looked angrily for a moment as if he wanted to be alone, but Isaac replied without that knowledge. “No thanks Stiles, but I think I’ll get that letter.”

“Well maybe next time, I’m sure I’ll have to keep Derek’s fridge stocked when his house is finished,” Stiles said.

“What do you think I’m not incompetent at keeping my house with food?” Derek asked.

“You may be able to cook, but you most certainly have a tendency to forget things,” Stiles said all too knowingly.

Isaac laughs, but Derek’s growl silences him. A slap from Stiles indicates that they were joking and Derek pouts, for a moment before his faces goes back to its stony self.

“Derek,” Isaac asked, his tone shifting from jovial to solemn. “If you had the option.... Would you adopt me?”

“Why do you think he’s rebuilding his house with all those rooms. And have you seen how big those rooms are? Freaking huge. I mean. I mean you could fit like two of my house in it....”

“More like three,” Isaac said.

“How about four, and that goes for both of your houses,” Derek said annoyed. He stopped the car in front of Erica’s house. “When it’s finished you can live with me.”

Isaac climbed over Stiles to get out, smiling large and happy that he had a family. When the werewolf teen was standing on his own two feet outside of the car. “Isaac, there won’t be a chest freezer and if you show me that you can maintain an anchor we’ll avoid chains.”

Isaac nearly shrunk from Stiles comment, but he gave a weak smile regardless, “Thank you, Stiles.”

“What?” Stiles said turning to Derek who had gripped his arm.

“Derek just thinks that the way you speak... You know boldly is effecting me, and to be honest, it’s both refreshing and hard to hear,” Isaac said, “But thank you.” Isaac closed the car door. 

“I’m bold?”

“You’re as clumsy in speech as you are in reality,” Derek said with a sigh.

“Oh,” Stiles said, as if realizing it himself. “Should I work on that?”

“No, I love you the way you are,” Derek said. Yep, he thought. Saying I love you over and over makes it easier to say. It helps when you mean it; when you love then person you say it to. 

Stiles blushed. “Well,” Stiles said before he coughs out of embarrassment. “We’re going to the grocery store, right?”

“Yep, and I’m not going to let you buy a thing.”

“But you. You just spent a fucking fortune on clothes and God knows how much money you’re going to spend on that house.”

“I can handle it. Stiles, listen. There was life insurance, house insurance, my family’s job and their trust, and I don’t ever use a lot of money, nor did Peter, when he was in a coma, spend money,” Derek said. He drove and parked and they were in the store within minutes. Derek knew what he was going for and was combing the isles like a pro. Stiles watched and attempted to put pop tarts, curly fries, and frozen pizzas, but Derek forced him to put them back by growling under his breath, and when he brought the last item the werewolf turned to Stiles and told him that if he wanted to make his father healthy it would have to be an entire house affair. By the time they reached the checkout everything was organic vegetables and fruits, lean meat, a couple sets of steaks that would be a treat on friday, yogurt, and other necessities that were perfectly healthy.

“And as a treat, Stiles, for being so good I’ll make something that you won’t even know is healthy for you? How about that,” Derek said as they carted all the groceries to the car.

“So long as I get more than one treat per evening.” Stiles said, his teenage hormones firing off the charts.

“Down boy,” Derek said, bemused.

“Woof!” Stiles said, giving his wolfy a cocky smile as they got into the car.

They were nearly back home when Stiles’ phone rang, the ringtone was that of the ghostbusters. “Dad,” Stiles said. “Yah, Derek and I are in the car, we just bought some groceries.” Stiles voiced dropped an octave, “I see. Would you like Derek and I to make diner and drop some off for you?.... Okay. It’ll take about an hour, will not be okay.... Okay.... Goodbye.” Stiles hung up the phone, his voice still lowered. “So what are we having for diner?”

“I’m sorry Stiles,” Derek said.

“It’s not your fault. I just worry you know. God knows what’s out there and Gerard.... Who knows what he’s capable of. So what are we making for diner.”

Derek paused for a moment, thinking about saying something else on the matter. “I was thinking a beet salad with balsamic vinegar and garlic grilled chicken with a side of sweet potato and broccoli.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles said. “Although maybe I only say that because I was fixated on your mouth.”

“Stiles.... “

“What, a man wants what a man wants,” Stiles said smirking.

“Well, how about we finish diner, deliver it to your father before you want to take advantage of my mouth,” Derek said as they pulled into the driveway.

Diner didn’t take as long as Stiles had expected, although it nearly took forty-five minutes because Stiles hindered Derek by kissing him or grinding himself against his werewolf’s side. Stiles moaned a couple of times when he ground into Derek in the right way that sent him on the edge.

When everything was finished they ate, chatted back and forth about arbitrary things. Stiles found it to be good for Derek that they were having such domestic, idle conversation that had nothing to do with murder or werewolf business, just simple conversation about his life; small details were shared about their lives. Just little things like favourite book, music, and such, and although Derek’s knowledge of what was current was skewed and few and far between. 

“When my sister and I,” Derek said. Stiles knew that when people avoided names it wasn’t an attempt to omit something, or at least in an emotional context, and thus we was still sensitive about the subject. “Were travelling and staying in New York, I very rarely watched TV or kept up with things. It was running. We were running from what happened here, running from the emotional consequences of what we witness... What I had done.”

“Derek! You did nothing wrong,” Stiles said.

“How do you know that. I slept with her, she used me. She used my teenage hormones against me and through her influence on me, she killed my family. She burned them down to ash. Humans, werewolves. It didn’t matter and I was the cause.”

“I know that you’re not evil, that you’re not capable of harming an innocent. What she did to you is unforgivable, but what happened to your family is not your fault,” Stiles said adamantly. He placed his hands on top of one of Derek’s that rested on the table. “Now let’s go take a nice drive to the station with some diner for my dad and we can come home and relax.”

Derek packed everything up in two contains, one for the salad and another for the vegetables and meat. He sealed the plastic containers, the steam fogging the interior. They got into the car without much conversation and arrived at the police station within five minutes. They got out of the car and headed in.

Stiles could tell that something was off. The front desk was maned by someone new, a male police officer who was smaller than Derek and looked rather intimidated when he walked in. There had been renovations, they had to tear out some of the walls and metal detectors had been placed by the entrance. Furthermore the desk was behind bullet proof glass.

“I am here to see my father. We’re here to see my father,” Stiles said, amending while speaking. 

“I’ll have to check. We’ve got new security features. The doors lock and can only be opened from a switch,” the front desk guard said. He picked up his phone and dialled a number, “Sheriff Stilinski. You’re sons here,” the front desk officer said. He lowered his voice so that they couldn’t hear, but Derek obviously could. “And he’s brought some hulking man.” There was a pause. “Oh. Okay. I’ll let them in.”

They went into the back office. His father’s room was cramped, but he made use of it in a way that made it look somewhat decent. 

“Hey Stiles. Derek,” Stiles‘ father said. “Thank you for bringing me diner.”

“My pleasure,” Stiles said. “But naturally Derek deserves the credit.”

The sheriff smiles for a moment, before he looks to his son. “You’ve got another question, Stiles?”

“Well Isaac has no family. And I’ve given him advice for emancipation, but I’d like it if Derek could adopt him. I know you don’t have all the facts, and the question arises: Why does Derek associate himself with teenagers but he does because of me, and therefore I’d like to help him out and Derek always treats him like a younger brother. And I know that brings questions up, but regardless, if Isaac emancipates himself from parental law then he’ll manage to be alone. I’ll be talk with Deaton about a job for Isaac. There is an available spot.”

“Stiles,” his father chastised. “Are you trying to undermine the law.”

“I’m trying to keep a friend out of the foster care system that you and I both know is usually not good. It is rare that people find a happy family to be a part of. Foster care could also take him out of the state, and it’s also rather unlikely that they’d find a family willing to take on a teenager, and the group homes are just as bad.”

“The laws the law, what’s kept him from me calling Child Services is the school term and the fact that J. Reyes has taken him in, with Erica. We’ll be contacting Child Services to intermediate between Isaac and if Reyes wants to adopt, but he doesn’t have the means.”

“Over my dead body,” Stiles said. “If I recall you were talking about Judge King, if I recall you said, was kind toward matters of children. And he emancipated a child of fifteen a year ago with far less evidence for proper living. The kid had a job and didn’t have nearly as much reserved capital that Isaac has.”

“You over hear too much,” the sheriff said. He shook his head in defeat. “I know when I’m beat. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to write a letter for Isaac that explains why he had a warrant out for his arrest, and that he would be fine on his own.”

“Do you have something to do with this?” the sheriff said, looking at Derek, possibly for help.

“Don’t look at me sir,” Derek said. “He’s done this on his own.”

“Of course I did this on my own,” Stiles said.

“Well I’ll write the letter about the warrant, but I’m unaware of how well he’ll do on his own. I’ll add from what I know. If he has a job he could live on his own so long as he is careful with his money. He also has surprising good grades, other than that I will say nothing,” the sheriff said. “Now Derek, take him home before he asks for anything else.” The Sheriff started to laugh. “And thanks for diner.”

“Our pleasure,” Derek said. He looked awkward in the little room, but he managed. “Come on Stiles, I’m sure your father is busy.”

“Be careful,” Stiles said turning to leave.

“I will. I’ll be home in the morning,” the sheriff said, in the back of his mind he added in thought, I shouldn’t be letting them go home alone. “It’s only a sweep of the forest and the surrounding warehouses. I’ll be alright. Promise.”

“Promise?” Stiles asked, standing in the doorway.

“I promise.” The sheriff smiled and watched as his son left with Derek. He had told the front desk that Derek was his son’s tutor. His smile faded and he wondered if he had just give his son free rain of his house and it would result in something he didn’t want to think about. He knew his son was smart, he couldn’t be unsafe. No, he didn’t want to think about it. He picked up his phone, called a search party to be formed, hung up the phone, and started on his diner. Derek had a knack for cooking and it would be good for Stiles to learn from him.

Derek and Stiles were back home, the teen had been fondling his werewolf in the car and was hardening before they even reached the door. Once they were inside, Stiles wrapped his legs around his werewolf’s waist, hoisting himself with a little late assistance from Derek. Their mouths met, and his wolfy’s tongue found its way into Stiles’ mouth, probing and wrapping around the teen’s tongue. Stiles moaned, grinding his body against his werewolf’s Herculean frame. Each arch and divot of Derek’s muscular abdominals providing perfect friction against the teen’s clothed erection. Stiles broke their kiss, migrating his mouth to Derek’s neck, applying suction, and licks with his tongue. Derek breath hitched momentarily, before climbing the stairs. 

He threw Stiles down on the bed, straddling the teen and locking his arms above his head before suckling the space between the teen’s neck and shoulder. He left a couple of nips, forcing yelps from Stiles’ mouth, before moans were all Derek could hear. Stiles’ nervous fingers fumbled with Derek’s belt buckle, managing to undo it. Derek growled, which the teen replied to with a woof. The werewolf smirked, stripping off his leather jacket (throwing it carefully against the back of Stiles’ desk-chair), then his shirt, revealing his gorgeous body. Stiles eyes fixated on Derek, taking him in and enjoying himself. He freed himself from Derek, his werewolf letting him reverse their positions.

Stiles straddled Derek, bringing kisses down from his werewolf’s neck down to the brilliant sharp angles of his pelvic bones. Dipping his tongue into Derek’s belly button before bring himself back to the werewolf’s abs, then one of his nipples, nipping at them and suckling. Derek moaned, his great hands gripping into Stiles’ sheets.

“I’ll take that as continue,” Stiles said, mouthing against the region just above the waist band of his jeans. He stopped momentarily, doffing his shirt, before he unzipped the front of his werewolf’s jeans. The teen hooked his thumbs in the waistband of both Derek’s jeans and underwear; enjoying himself and using internet-gleaned research to allow him to continue. Derek helped Stiles remove his jeans and underwear, thrusting his hips momentarily to allow for the clothes to slide off. The teen removed Derek’s socks, before bring himself face to face with his werewolf’s manhood. 

Derek was nearly fully erect, his impressive length with a bead of pre-come appearing on the crown. Derek watched as Stiles licked the underside of his werewolf’s manhood. Derek tried to stop himself from moaning, but he couldn’t manage it. He gasped and moaned from deep in his throat, growling at times, particularly when Stiles sucked the head into his mouth, swirling the tongue across the top, clumsily drawing the tongue around underside. Slowly, Stiles attempted to draw Derek further into his mouth, gagging only slight before he hummed and used his tongue with skill both he and Derek thought he hadn’t.

“Stiles,” Derek said, pulling Stiles from his cock, and bring their mouths together. The teen tasted like him and Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth as the older man helped him removed his pants and underwear, leaving them slumped at the bottom of Stiles’ bed. He ground himself into his werewolf, their manhoods rubbing against each other.

“Derek I need you,” Stiles said, managing only those words before he groaned from the friction. “I want you.” He had heard that line over and over in the porn he had observed in research. Now, in the current circumstance, he understood why they had said such things. He wanted Derek in every way possible, and although his voice hadn’t allowed Derek to hear what he had thought, it was evident.

Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles’ body, his saliva-slicked length sliding across Stiles’ thigh as the werewolf returned to his original position. He was on top of Stiles, bringing himself down to the teen’s manhood and skillfully taking it into his mouth for a moment, teasing Stiles, before looking to Stiles and smiles. “I don’t think you’ll last long,” Derek said, a cocky-smile-smirk on his devilishly charming face.

“I want you inside me,” Stiles finally vocalized. Moaning as Derek wrapped his hand around the teen’s length before looking up, past Stiles cock to look the teen in the eyes. “God! I want you so bad.”

Derek reached into Stiles’ side table drawer and pulled out of bottle of lube, before bring his mouth to Stiles’ and wrapping their tongues together before bringing himself back to the teen’s length. Taking him deep into his mouth, while his hands opened the tube of lube and poured some liberally on his other hand. He took his coated hand and rubbed one finger against Stiles’ entrance before slipping a digit in. The teen jerked, his hips thrusted forward into Derek’s mouth. The werewolf smiled into Stiles erection, pressing a second finger into him forcing another jerking motion and a moan, particularly when he began to scissor his fingers apart.

“More,” Stiles said. “Please,” he added meekly.

Derek chuckled darkly, the reverberations nearly making Stiles come. Another couple of fingers were in, Stiles hadn’t expected that much pressure or filling. Continuously Derek kept pressing against his prostate, more jerking and moaning came from Stiles from his actions. 

Stiles whimpered. “Please more,” Stiles said, carding a hand in Derek’s hair and the other hand clinging to his sheets. “Fuck me, Derek. Please.”

Derek aggressively took hold of Stiles’ legs, driving them apart, and resting them on either side of his waist. Stiles missed the warmth of Derek’s mouth, and for a moment he wondered if Derek had felt the same kind of longing for his mouth to be on his erection. He also missed the feeling of Derek’s fingers lodged within him, spreading him open, and hitting all the right places. Soon, however, Derek lubed himself up, providing the necessary slickness. He pressed the head of his length against Stiles’ entrance before sliding slowly into the teen. When he was fully impaled into Stiles, he gave Stiles moments to get used to the intrusion. At first Stiles found it to be painful, his body unused to such expansion, but Derek kept moving, skillfully burrowing himself back into the teen and hitting the prostate. Unlike before the feeling from the hitting was more... More powerful. He wanted more. He bucked into Derek whenever possible, deepening each thrust. He moaned and cried out Derek’s name over and over, coming once from Derek’s cock sliding in and out of him. The second time, he came from the friction of his werewolf’s abs against his throbbing erection. Derek had embraced him, bringing their chests close together as he fucking him thoroughly.

Derek was all gruff, growling, moaning, and grunting as he continued his claiming of Stiles; it was taking all of his effort to maintain a regular human pace, but his wolven stamina gave him an edge over standard humans, and his wolf was in the process of enjoying its wanted mate — chosen mate. Stiles in the thralls of sex, kissed Derek and wrapped his arms around his head. He would groan into Derek’s mouth, breathing when he needed to, and enjoying similar noises coming from the werewolf. Stiles could feel how slick from sweat and come they were, and from more friction and Derek’s fucking, he came for a second time, shouting out his werewolf’s name as he did.

Derek’s pace increased, forcing more moans out from Stiles’ mouth that was still attached to his. The werewolf had been suckling on Stiles’ tongue, glancing from his eyes into Stiles when they weren’t shut, and enjoying Stiles’ reddening lips. “Harder,” those reddening lips whispered. “Harder.”

Derek growled, his pace going faster, his heart racing, and his red eyes flashing. Stiles had his eyes open, loving the werewolf’s eyes even when they were red. He wasn’t afraid. At the start, when the teen had first met Derek he had been afraid, but now when he looked at Derek he felt protected — he felt safe. He felt loved. 

Derek’s grunts, moans, and groans became more pronounced, reverberating against Stiles chest. “I’m close,” Derek muttered, his voice gruff. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, wanting to be rammed through and through. and locking Derek to him. 

“Stiles, I—” Derek said, stabilizing himself as he finally came into Stiles, the force sending them both into bliss. Derek howled and Stiles moaned, and for just a moment they had forgotten about the trouble in their lives and the emotional trauma that they both shared and had.

Derek pulled out and rolled on to his side, bring Stiles close to him. They both lay there, breath laboured, sweaty, and sticky, and yet they slowly drifted into sleep, their legs entwining comfortably, and Derek’s arms wrapped around Stiles drawing him close. For just a moment before he closed his eyes Derek smiled, he had found someone he loved.

Morning light coaxed them awake. The room was dark in the clouded sunlight, but Derek and Stiles hadn’t moved from where they had fallen asleep the night before. It would seem as though their bodies were reluctant to part from one another. They pieced together perfectly. Stiles woke up first, stretching his legs and arms a little, waking Derek from his slumber. 

“Good morning,” Derek said, smirking before he pressed a kiss against Stiles’ back before rubbing his face into the teen’s back, his stumble scrapping Derek’s soft skin.

“Well I lost my virginity, of course it is a good morning, although I didn’t expect my body to be so sore,” Stiles nattered.

Derek licked the space between Stiles’ shoulder blades, chuckling darkly at Stiles comment.

“Don’t be so proud that you made me sore, cocky-wolf,” Stiles stammers.

“I’m definitely a wolf, and I do have a cock,” Derek said rather vulgarly, enjoying as Stiles’ coughs out of awkwardness.

“Well my cockful wolf,” Stiles said. “I’m going to go have a shower, you’re welcome to join me.” Stiles attempted to get up, but Derek held him in place.

“I’d be happier if you’d stay for a little longer,” Derek said. Dragging his tongue across the back of Stiles’ neck.

“My dad could get back at any moment,” Stiles said, giggling as Derek’s tongue tickled the back of his neck.

Derek’s ground his body into Stiles, loving when Stiles backed into him. They both were semi-erect by this point and when Stiles pulled himself free from Derek and outstretched a hand to help the werewolf up. In moments they were in the shower, under the warm water, they muscles releasing and the water cleaning them. Derek’s cock was pressed against the ridge of his arse, and the werewolf wrapped a hand around Stiles’ burgeoning erection.

“Derek,” Stiles whimpered. “I might be sore, but fuck me.”

Derek chuckled.

“What?!”

“I can’t help it. You’re perfect, and your mine,” Derek said, thrusting his hips, only to met with Stiles back into him.

“All yours,” Stiles said, turning around and kissing Derek, their erect manhoods grinding into each other frantically, nearly as wild as their kissing. 

“I’m your’s,” Derek whispered.

The teen dropped down to his knees, taking Derek into his mouth. He had learned a thing or two about oral sex from the night’s previous affair. His internet research hadn’t perfectly prepared him for the reality. He took Derek deep into his mouth, still gagging a little, but managing. He hummed and twirled his tongue with some experience and listening for when Derek’s breath would hitch or he could moan. Anything Derek would do was research for him. Every reaction he could catalogue and improve the way in which he serviced his wolfy. Stiles loved when Derek would grip into his hair, or jerk his hips fucking his mouth. He wanted it. He wanted to show Derek that he was able to handle him.

Derek pulled him back, off his cock, and lifted Stiles back to his feet. “You’re getting too good at that,” his werewolf said. 

“I want you to know I can handle anything you can do,” Stiles said. 

“I think you can handle me just fine,” Derek said, innuendo in his words, and yet he was being serious. 

“Why don’t you show me that you know how to take care of me,” Stiles said, smiling wicked and giving Derek a light kiss.

Derek broke their kiss, opened the door to the shower for a moment and picked up a bottle of lube that undoubtedly he had brought with them to the shower. He smiled wickedly and put his back to the running water preventing the lube from being washed away. He slicked his cock, wanting to work Stiles open with his length.

Stiles with his werewolf’s assistance, wrapped his legs around Derek and soon was being pressed against the cold tiled wall. He could feel Derek’s radiating warmth working away at the chill and soon he was back into the blissful steamy-shower goodness he had once been in. Derek pressed the crown of his manhood against Stiles’ wanton entrance, using the head to smear both lube and pre-come against it. He pushed in, a whimper pushing its way out of Stiles’ mouth. He wanted more, but his sore bottom was giving him some grief. The entrance stretched and the aftermath of last night’s affair helped Derek’s way.

He was faster this time, sheathing his entire length in one thrust and pulling out just as quickly before plunging back in. 

“More,” Stiles said, bitting his lip, trying to stop the moans, but soon he couldn’t control himself. He moaned loudly, before Derek silenced him with passionate kiss. “Harder Derek.” Derek listened. “Oh fuck. More. More...” Stiles broke out into moans. 

Derek moaned, his pace fast and wolven. God! Stiles loved his werewolf’s stamina. He wanted it, he wanted to feel used by Derek. A psychologist would determine at to be a way of finding comfort from the pair or some other underlying cause, but Stiles just wanted to be with Derek, as one or two, together in anyway possible And besides sex with Derek was amazing and enjoyable.

“Stiles, you still so tight,” Derek gruffly said. His voice rumbling and so very seductive. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said. “Your so perfect. Fuck! I love you,” Stiles said.

“I love you too,” Derek said, continuing his thrusting, finding himself turned on by every noise that escaped Stiles’ lips. The teen was on the edge between bliss and some pain (that derived from the previous night), and he was able to hold out a little longer. Derek, however, was going full force, and came with growl and taking Stiles mouth. He pulled out, a sad smile on Stiles face only for a moment, as if he missed being filled with Derek. The teen could feel the aftermath slipping from him, but wasn’t allowed to fixate for long, Derek dropped down to his knees, taking the teen into his mouth and preforming what Stiles could only describe as godly. His tongue did things that Stiles couldn’t fathom. He was close in moments, particularly when Derek had him to the root and was rumbling against his length. The werewolf gripped into Stiles rear, fastening himself to the teen. He took the teen as deep as he could manage, letting Stiles come down his throat before shallowing around the erection milking the teen for all he had. Saliva and remnant come trickled from the corner of his mouth, before he released Stiles, a string of spit linking his mouth to the crown of Stiles’ erection.

Stiles wanted to come then again, watching Derek, clean of his cock and then bring his mouth to his. He could taste his own come into his own mouth, but he didn’t mind. There was something else that was uniquely Derek in his mouth now, and he didn’t mind for a moment.

“Did anyone tell you that your perfect. No, not just brilliant. Godly. Lovely. I love you. I didn’t just say that in the thralls of sex. I love you,” Stiles said. “And I know that you’ll have some sort of moment when you think, am I like her or that I was like you, but either one is wrong. We’re different. And I love.... I love—” Stiles was saying until Derek planted a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you too, now shut up,” Derek said, kissing Stiles before picking up the bar of soap and lathering them both in the sandalwood suds. He rubbed them both and managed to keep Stiles’ manhood at bay. Stiles would woof in his ear whenever he got close to the teen’s length. 

“I sorry, but this is really hot,” Stiles said. “And you know teenagers.”

“You can’t help yourself,” Derek said. “Hold out your hand.” Stiles did and the werewolf poured into his hand some shampoo before beginning to work shampoo into Stiles’ growing hair. Stiles was careful not to get any soap into Derek’s eyes, and found it odd and yet romantic. They rinsed off the soap and Derek gave him a glob of condition, and soon after they were stepping out of the shower and wrapping themselves up in soft fluffy towels.

“I think we should take Isaac shopping once the house is done,” Stiles said.

“I agree,” Derek said. He looked to Stiles with an affectionate smile, gave him a chaste kiss. “Your good with our pack.”

“I’m your mate after all,” Stiles said, slipping the word in.

Derek nearly chocked on his own tongue. He coughed and took a moment to breath. “Mate?”

“Derek we both know that it wasn’t a joke when Alex mentioned it. Do you think I’m your mate. Does your wolf agree. I mean. I....” Stiles fell silent, which was, unusual.

“Yes. My wolf and I both agree you’re my mate. I mean you don’t need to commit to anything obviously. And. And I don’t know much about rituals or what it does or anything about... My parents died before they could tell me anything about it.”

“Derek, whether you like to know it or not, I love you,” Stiles said, closing the distance between them. Yes they were still clothed in towels. He planted a kiss on Derek’s lips, it was firm and chaste, but still filled with passion. “Whatever term it translate to for werewolves it what I am.” He paused for a moment, listening to Derek’s laboured breath. “Now come on, let’s get dressed and make breakfast before my dad comes home and sees us practically naked.”

“Of course,” Derek said, dropping his towel and sauntering over to his room where he had brought his clothes. He smiled, he could feel Stiles’ eyes on him, wanting him and taking in his length. 

“Tease!” Stiles shouts, before he quickly gets dressed and went around picking up the clothes from last night and forming a load of laundry, know fully well that Derek would take a little extra time to get ready. He turned around when he finished putting the load together, Derek was there and nearly frightened the shit out of Stiles. “Derek!”

“Sorry,” his werewolf answered. “Let’s make breakfast, it’s nearly eight. Your dad should be home soon.”

“Good idea,” Stiles said, as Derek escorted him downstairs and into the kitchen. He looked at the kitchen table for a moment, then looking at Derek, “I don’t know how I’m going to sit down.” Derek chuckled in his usual way and gave a cocky smile that Stiles wanted to kiss off or slap off, he wasn’t quite sure. “Don’t we so proud!”

“Can’t help it. You’re mine and everyone will be able to smell that, and,” Derek said, before he dropped into a whisper, “You and I both enjoyed it.”

Stiles punched the wolf in the arm before plopping some bread into the toaster, and handing Derek the carton of eggs.


	2. INAY: The Moon's Sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of I'm Not Afraid of You, that involves a full moon, Alpha verse, Knotting, and Sterek loveliness that we've become quite fond of, as a fandom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a reminder that this is the last full length chapter, but once I get a little more time there will, most certainly, be little scenes between the two star-crossed lovers.

Two weeks passed and the construction crew had been busily at the building of the new Hale home. They were not expanding beyond the forest edge, but they were shortening the amount of grass that was surrounding the house a little. They needed to expand to fit the pool and several added features. Derek had told him that the primary amount of building would take place at night, which, with their werewolven eyes could pierce through the darkness. They would have a few people pulling together things during the day. The noise either during the day or night were easily drowned out by the traffic of the city or the forest and the wind. Within those weeks Derek had received the blueprints. He rested them on Stiles bed, during a day in which he had been at Deaton’s, and when he returned they met in his room.

“Are these the plans for your house?” Stiles asked, nearly certain.

“Yep, I was hoping that you’d take a look at them, give me your opinion,” Derek answered.

“Well you’re going to have to point things out for me. I’m not familiar with reading these.”

“Well, I suppose,” Derek said pointing to the plans for the basement. “We’ll start with the basement. It’s got the least amount of things. So here. Here we’ve got enough room and soundproofing to contain our betas. The chains will be secured to the foundation with room for more if that happens. A bathroom, for those after-moon mornings to clean up and whatnot. And of course the chains and things won’t be so necessary if they find their anchors. A wine room. The door is very heavy so that they don’t get out or wreck anything. Same for the bathroom and the door upstairs. We’ll keep the stairs either concrete or metal. Any opinion on that?”

Stiles had been flabbergasted for just a moment with the phrase, our betas, but awoke from his stupefaction to answer. “Well metal would rattle or scrape or whatever, but concrete could chip, but I suppose it could last and be redone easily.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Derek said, a smiling on his face. “The main floor will have a gourmet —”

“Oh wait, is there room for at least a chest freezer. Actually make it a walk in, you know for Isaac’s sake. So that you can keep a lot of food in the house without having to continuously go to the store. I mean, honestly Scott alone could eat my dad and I, out of house and home.”

Derek loved that Stiles kept thinking about Isaac and the rest of the pack. It was. Just. So. He wasn’t sure, but his wolf wanted it. It was perfect. “Sounds like a good idea. The main floor will have an entryway that’s not too grand, but large enough for the double doors to get into the house. The stairs leading up to second floor would be large enough for the clambering. Living room large for a future family of the pack, cause that could happen. Kitchen, as I was saying that’s a gourmet kitchen and a dining room. Should feel open concept and all the windows are nearly floor to ceiling. All open, to let in the breeze and stuff. Not to mention a bathroom, nothing fancy.”

“Kitchen have a breakfast bar? With stools and like a small farm table for just the pack.”

“Kitchen island that’s large enough for a breakfast bar. And we’ll go shopping for the furniture later.”

“Okay. Okay. So the upstairs.”

“Well there are two more floors. The second floor will have ten rooms. Oh I nearly forgot the pool. It’ll have access through the kitchen to make sure that we don’t get anything too wet, and the tiled floor will make the drips easy to clean. Thermo-glassed windows near the ceiling. Not olympic, but it should keep everyone busy to spend the pent up energy, especially pre-full moon.”

“Good. Good. I like the idea of us in the pool,” Stiles said, his voice ascending enough for the implications.

“So each room will have a little bathroom, I’ll let the pack pick out what they each want. Colours and whatnot,” Derek continued. “And a library. It’ll be good. We’ll have a nice desk for you to do research.”

“A desk for me huh?” Stiles said. “I’m perfectly fine working here. Why ask me about all this. I mean it’s your house. You should make these decisions. I’m just, Stiles....”

“I want you to be comfortable here. I’d like for you to at least be there often, I mean when you’re able to you can move in if you’d like—”

“Hold on,” Stiles interjected. “You want me to move in with you?”

“I’d love for you to. I want you to. I want this to be our home.”

“Derek! I don’t. I mean this must have cost you a fortune.” Stiles jumped into Derek, hugging him fiercely and placing a kiss on his stumbled cheek, before planting one on Derek’s lips.

“Spit in the bucket. Just don’t worry about that,” Derek said, after the kiss “And besides,” Derek added, pulling Stiles toward the fourth plan. “This right here is the attic space, large... Bedroom with a bathroom and a sauna. Some windows, but not too many. Perfect. Not to mention soundproofed. The entire house is reenforced.”

“Derek, one would think you were trying to get me into bed,” Stiles said.

“Was I that obvious?”

“Perfectly.”

***

“So we’re shopping for the entire house. The entire house,” Stiles said, annunciating the latter phrase. “That explains,” Stiles added, waving the scanning-gun in front of Derek’s face.

They went through the floors, leaving the basement, since everything for that could be ordered online and the contractor’s wife was a designer and had already been with them for all the bathrooms and the kitchen. All they had to do was furniture and kitchen appliances.

“I’m thankful that the washer and dryer are on the second floor,” Stiles said.

They went through the stores, Pottery Barn, Restoration Hardware, and a couple of other stores, pulling together a brilliant home for what to Stiles felt like a fortune, but Derek kept reminding Stiles that his family had both money before and money from different insurances. 

When they were shopping for kitchen appliances in Restoration Hardware, the music made it so that conversation could barely be heard from person to person, let alone anyone not standing right next to each other.

“So full moon’s tomorrow evening,” Stiles said, scanning in a mixing bowl set from Emilie Henry.

“And the moon is going to in full perigee, meaning really close. It has a great effect on us. I’ve been keeping away from you on the full moon and there are.... things. About what Alpha’s go through during the full moon... I just don’t think I’ll be able to keep away from you. It might be best to stay at Deaton’s and mountain ash yourself in. I’m just thankful that the house is finished and we can lock the betas in the basement. And Alex has cameras on the outside setup and hooked up to the TV and a ton of fire alarms.”

“Derek. We’ll keep everyone safe. I won’t let anything happen. And what things to Alpha’s go through?”

“Stiles, you read the bestiary, don’t play dumb.”

“Fine! But it’s not like it’s in explicit detail. I mean, do you really.... You know... Get a knot.”

“Yes,” Derek grunted out, Stiles turned toward him and he swore that he saw his werewolf blushing a little. 

“Self-conscious? I’ve already seen you naked,” Stiles said, punching him on the shoulder. There was a growl in response, subtle, but still heard.

“No,” Derek said, his voice gruff. “It’s just not something you hear so often.”

Stiles brought himself closer to Derek, pressing into his warm side, “Besides,” Stiles said, kissing him on his stubbled cheek. “I look forward.” Stiles leaned forward toward Derek’s ear, “I look forward to you locking into me.”

Derek cleared his throat, a blush had grown across his cheek. “Stiles,” Derek let out, his tone indicative of his uncomfortableness.

“Don’t be a sourwolf, wolfy,” Stiles said scanning a necessary coffeemaker.

“It’s not just that, Stiles. Normally I lose almost all my senses, the wolf nearly takes over. Sometimes I fully change, and other times I stalk around my old house. Run in the woods. It takes all my power to keep myself from finding you and —. It doesn’t matter. I just don’t know what it’s going to be like now that I’ve listened to my wolf. I no longer have the facade of my temper and my.... Sourwolf-ness. Not to mention you’ve agreed to be my mate. It should be fine. I just need you to stay away from the house.”

“Sure, but I’ll be there bright in early the day after,” Stiles said. “To deal with the aftermath of the full moon. And who knows maybe you’ll get lucky.” He went off, a little ahead, to scan what appeared to be a slow cooker. Derek followed, wrapped his arms around Stiles.

“How did I get so lucky,” Derek said. “To get someone — a mate, that understands,” Derek said.

Stiles smiled from a corner of his mouth and accepted a kiss from behind him. “Derek come on, we’ve got a toaster to buy.”

They had finished shopping and they returned back to the renovated Hale home. They had brought home what they could carry, but the furniture would arrive the day of the full moon and Derek was sure that he could handle himself so long as Stiles wasn’t around or he would be over protective and what have you. It was nearly six, and Stiles knew that his dad was going to be arrive for dinner around eight, so they had a good two hours alone. Alone in this massive home. Stiles had toured and helped with all the renovations, not to mention the colours of tiles, walls, etcetera. Derek had taken particular interest in having him involved in everything. Unfortunately the house looked bare without the furniture, even Derek’s bedroom was incomplete, but he had take all his clothes from Stiles’ and had them in a duffle bag in his room with a new mattress that he had been outfitted with the sheets and pillows that Stiles had selected for their room. Once they had the bed, he would transfer it all to it. 

“I’m glad you like everything,” Derek said. They were standing in the empty living room, well not so empty if one counted the large flatscreen that was hooked up to the wall.

“I’m just glad that you do. It’s your home, Derek,” Stiles said.

“I want it to be our home,” Derek said, stressing our quite indicatively. “And besides, what you like I like.”

“Better be,” Stiles said. He went to Derek and pressed a kiss on those lips of his. “So we’ve got two hours, plenty of time to cook diner for my dad and for a little us time.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Stiles quickly pushed off Derek to get a head start and started running upstairs. “Can’t catch me wolfy.”

Derek torn after him, playfully growling as he caught him. He picked Stiles up just outside their bedroom, he struggled for the fun of it, but eventually stopped wriggling and took Derek’s mouth with his own, letting his wolf’s tongue assault his own. Derek took Stiles into their room, closing the door with a foot before lowering himself and Stiles onto the bed and letting his hands ravish his lover’s body, while his mouth parted from Stiles’ mouth to spend more time leaving a trail of nips down the teen’s neck.

Derek ground against Stiles’ body, the teen let his hands wonder to his belt, unlatching it, before going to Derek’s and pulling his pants down as far as his limited reach could take him. Derek helped Stiles take off his shirt so that his wolven kisses could travel further. Stiles whimpered as Derek’s tongue slid around this belly button, before going further down. His werewolf hooked his thumbs under Stiles’ underwear, a pair that he had picked out for him. His wolf enjoyed the thoughts that were going through his head. He slid them down, exposing Stiles’ manhood to Derek’s inspection. His warm tongue met the teen’s cock and teasingly circling the head before sliding down the growing length, coaxing Stiles to become even harder. The teen was moaning and groaning, enjoying the actions of his mate.

Derek flipped him over, knowing Stiles was coming closer to the edge, and spread him, pressing his tongue as deep as he could into Stiles. Preparing his lover for the extensive... probing he was going to do with his manhood in moments. He pulled his pants off, his shirt, everything, before working off all the rest of Stiles‘ clothing. He gave one last lick against Stiles’ entrance, then his cock from between his legs before flipping Stiles again so that he could see his mate’s face.

“Derek, I need you!” Stiles said. “Stop teasing me.”

Derek chuckled darkly, “Tell me what you need,” he asked.

Stiles whined when Derek toyed with one of his knuckles against his entrance. Moaning Stiles whimpered and squirmed under Derek’s strong arms. 

“Come on Stiles,” Derek growled out. “What do you need.”

“I need you to stuff me full with cock, fill me....” Stiles said, exclaiming when Derek plunged into him, up to the hilt. He pulled out, fully, loving it when Stiles whimpered at the emptiness before his werewolf filled him back up, and beginning his jackhammering of his body. Stiles met Derek’s thrusts, enjoying how full it made him.

Soon Stiles came, while Derek had them so close, hugging him close and pounding into him. The scent of Stiles filling his nostrils. He wanted to blend it with his own scent, rubbing against Stiles chest with his own and coming deep within Stiles. He put suction of Stiles’ neck, leaving several marks as symbols of his claiming. This was his mate! Stiles was his!

Derek, still inside, lay them both down, Stiles on his chest, and enjoying the afterglow. “I love you,” Derek uttered.

“I love you,” Stiles replied. “I hate to ruin the mood but we have to make dinner, I’m just glad we have those stools by the island. That’ll serve as a makeshift table.”

“Your dad is just checking on both the renovations and you. I think he thinks I’m gonna take you away, whisk you away to my new house,” Derek said.

“You’re not?”

“Is that what you want?”

Stiles nodded. Derek again was hardening again, but Stiles slide off him and go up, heading toward the bathroom. “I’m showering, and if that involves some Stiles plus Derek fun time, so be it. But I’ve got to shower and we need to cook.”

Derek flew to the bathroom, turning on the water and pulling Stiles under the spray. The teen slide to his knees taking Derek into his mouth and wanting to take him deeper. He nearly gagged on Derek’s massive manhood, but he managed, humming around the base and taking in the natural scent of Derek as best as his mortal nose could. He pulled back, popping the head of his werewolf’s cock out of mouth before taking it back in and swirling his tongue around it.

Derek had his hand on the back of Stiles’ head and once his lover was use to him, he let Derek thrust in and out. He came without really meaning to, but Stiles took all of him. Licking his lips, he pulled himself up and kissed Derek, his tongue finding home there in the warmth of the wolf’s mouth.

“Fuck me,” Derek said, in the heat of the moment. He wasn’t sure if his wolf would let him play the submissive, but he was desperate to repay Stiles — no. He wanted to feel Stiles in him. He wanted Stiles and him to be equal, even if that meant playing with the Alpha complex that, naturally, his alpha wolf instincts had. 

“Derek, I.”

“Fuck me, Stiles. Take me. Please.”

Stiles obeyed, about to get on his knees, but Derek stopped him and whispered that he wanted Stiles to take him, using his own pre-come as lubricant. Stiles lined himself up, hesitating for moment. “Derek, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to.”

“Just do it, Stiles, please,” he said, his voice his typical gruff-tone. 

Stiles plunged into Derek, savouring the feeling of Derek’s tight entrance gripping him and the moans that Derek made as he kept a steady rhythm. Nearly instantly, Stiles was getting close. He wasn’t used to the feelings. He tried focusing on other things, and kept going at Derek. His pace quickened as he got closer to his release, he debated what he should do, should he pulled out or stay. Derek stayed in him, he could feel Derek’s aftermath still slowly flowing out of him. After all, werewolves were immune to practically everything.

“Inside,” Derek sputtered out, his face pressed against the tiled wall of the shower stale. His face was red from the feeling and the exertion. “Come inside me.” Several thrusts later, Stiles came, at which point he collapsed on Derek’s back.

Derek pulled himself off Stiles, and kissed him, their mouths meeting in a frenzy. Unbeknownst, Derek grabbed the soap, while they kissed and slowly brought the soap to the both of them while they kissed. They had a long night ahead of them.

Dinner was quick, thankfully, and when Stiles‘ father arrived, Derek wasn’t sure whether he could sit or not. Stiles had been his first, or at least his first to do that to him. He was sore, but he was glad, and he also thought that maybe that soreness would trigger his own control over himself when he was under the effect of the massive full moon that was going to be rising. When the door bell range he was quick to the door; something about Stiles‘ father brought him back to the years when he had a father and had to behave around him. They ate and the conversation was shifted to the subject of Stiles and Derek.

“So I know that Stiles spends a lot of time here, and I was just wondering if.... If Stiles was going to move in...”

“Dad, I’m not going to move in until I’m eighteen,” Stiles said, obviously having spent time on subject. Both his father and Derek looked taken aback, but Stiles said, “But I’d like to be able to spend a good few nights a week here at least.”

Derek exhaled and the sheriff looked a little relieved and a little upset all at once. He sighed. “I know that I won’t be able to stop you. Even if I brought the law into it. So I’m just gonna have to let you do it. I trust you Stiles, just be safe....”

“Dad.”

“Stiles,” both Derek and the sheriff said.

Laughter ensued, but Stiles thought it best that he go home with his dad, so that, as he explained to Derek, that his werewolf wouldn’t have to worry about the moon’s sway in the morning.

 

The next day came, the full moon was approaching, for it was that very evening that they were going to be under it’s full effect. It was palpable the tension that was exuding from the werewolves of the pack; everyone was feeling the sway of its lunar power.

Stiles awoke, he felt uncomfortably warm, even after a cold shower. He was wondering whether he was coming down with something, but he disregarded the notion. Normally when he got sick, he got sick. No intermediate stage between full blown illness, throwing up, and chills. He gave the notion of being ill a little more thought, and he supposed that maybe he was coming down with a little cold, some stroke of luck that he wasn’t more sick. It might have come from one of the pet’s owners coming to Deaton’s animal clinic. That must be. Yes.

Stiles dressed, he had to be at Deaton’s soon, he wasn’t going to miss a day. He pulled on a shirt that Derek had left, the one of the lyrics with Moon Ray on it. He inhaled Derek’s scent that was clutching to the fabric, and he wanted his werewolf, his lover, his boyfriend to be there. He wanted Derek so bad. He wanted Derek to hold him, to just hold him forever. He got flustered for a moment, unable to think straight. His mind wondered to the previous night and blush bloomed on his face when he realized that he had left that nearly transparent sweater at Derek’s. He’d have to go get that when he went over there tomorrow.

He got into his car, he was going to be late, but Deaton didn’t much care, so long as he stayed a little later to cover the time missed, and besides he had Scott and Isaac working there now. He had finally managed to get Isaac a job and the court was seeing to their case sometime in the next couple of weeks. He pulled into the parking lot outside of Deaton’s. He could barely pull himself out of his vehicle. He was so very hot, he could hardly stand, but he managed. He was so frazzled, but he remembered to close his door and lock it.

He got in, Deaton saw him first as he enter. He could tell that something was off, Stiles was weak and was having trouble standing, but he was persistent. He looked paler and dishevelled, and slightly clammy.

“Good morning, Stiles. Are you feeling alright?” Deaton asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been feeling a little hot today. I must be coming down with something,” Stiles replied.

“You should have called, I don’t think it’s just a simple cold. Look at you, you can barely stand.”

“Nonsense,” Stiles replied, moving toward the counter, pulling aside the barricade and coming behind the counter. “I’m fine.” He collapsed, however, as he tried to go into the back room, Deaton, luckily, prevented him from falling to the floor.

“Stiles, when did you start feeling this way?”

“Since this morning, it’s nothing really. I just need to sit down.”

“Hey, Deaton something smells odd....,” Scott said coming into the room. “Is it some kind of mountain a—. Stiles!” He paused. “What’s wrong with Stiles? Hey man are you alright?”

“Of course, I must be fine. I’ve just nearly fallen over, and I feel like shit,” Stiles replied.

“What’s up, something’s wrong I’m feeling lightheaded and the moon’s pull. I’m having trouble controlling myself. It’s something, some scent. I...” Isaac said.

“Hey! Isaac!” Erica said, Boyd in arm. “Hold on, what’s that.” She started to growl and her eyes began to glow.

“Scott, are you some what in control?” Deaton asked summon the strength needed to activate the mountain ash that comprised the desk. 

“I think so, is it Stiles that’s causing this. Back off Isaac!” Scott said, he growled to get Isaac to back off, while Boyd and Erica struggled against the mountain ash barrier.

They went toward Deaton’s office, and Deaton was particular in allowing only himself to hold Stiles, Scott kept Isaac from them. Once inside, Deaton shifted his presence from the desk to his office.

“What’s happening?” Stiles exclaimed. Growls could be heard from outside, they had wolfed out.

“You’re going through heat, it’s not common. You typically see this in alphas and their mates. Some call it the alpha’s omega.”

“Are you saying I’m going into heat? But I’m not a wolf!”

“You may not be a werewolf, but you’re Derek’s mate. It’s an effect that comes with being with a werewolf alpha, I’m afraid. At least you’re not a wolf, because then I would have more details to bestow upon you, but since you’re still human that information can wait until after your cycle,” Deaton answered.

“He should have warned me about this,” Stiles answered angrily.

“Well, I don’t think it should have hit you with such force, it must have something todo with the moon.”

“Fucking great!” Stiles sighed. “I’m just so damn hot and I cannot think straight!”

“Yah that’s gonna be part of it. It seems to be coming quickly. So I would expect chills, more heat, fear, paranoia, and things of the sort.”

“Wait did you say fear and paranoia?”

“Well of betas and paranoia that comes with it.”

The growls reached the door and Stiles went rigid, he soon understood what Deaton was speaking about. He slid from the chair behind Deaton’s desk and hid under the desk.

“Stiles?” Deaton asked.

“Stay back!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Okay. I’m gonna call Derek.”

“No! He said to keep away,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, I think this is an exception. Everything will get better if Derek is with you. It’s encoded, I think, with this whole thing.”

Stiles rested his head against the desk, but every time there was a growl he curled his legs tighter to his chest. “Please, call. Him.” Deaton went to it and was quick to tell Derek of the ordeal. 

“The bestiary didn’t mention this!” Stiles whined out. He was growing hotter, burning up, and he was having chills even though he was so very hot. His mind was failing him, he kept nuzzling his nose against his shirt. Derek — he wanted Derek.

When the call came, Derek was busing himself with the people delivering the furniture. They had brought in the last pieces, the couch by the television and the farm-style bleached wood table that Stiles had wanted. He could hear his phone ring, and he went for it. He was having trouble not going after Stiles, but he managed to contain himself. The full moon wasn’t beaming on him, so he had some control.

“Deaton,” Derek said. His face dropped, he had the all-too familiar plummeting feeling, and quickly hung up, payed the delivery people before locking up and leaving. He could run to Deaton’s faster than he could drive there. The protective nature of his alpha and himself, grew increasingly powerful and his pace quickened as a result. His mate was amongst his betas, and they were enthralled by the scent that Stiles was producing as an in-heat Alpha’s mate. They were taken by it, forcing their own hormones and wolven instincts on edge. Who knows what they would do, the hormones could trigger them to wolf out, and that would put Stiles in terrible trouble.

He nearly wolfed out as he ran, he was frustrated — he was pent up, both emotionally and sexually. His eyes were already aglow with his alpha-red and he was huffing under his breath in that rough wolfish way. When he arrived at the Deaton’s he nearly took the front door off the hinges. He could see his betas clambering at the door and then of course there was Scott, his maybe-beta, but regardless, he growled deep from his throat.

From under Deaton’s desk Stiles heard it, Derek’s sexy, deep, rumbling growl that he had become so familiar with. Sure it was angrier than normal, but he was use to that too. With his heat-induced delirium he wanted to find Derek, if he wasn’t panicking in fear he would find Derek and have his werewolf fuck him hard. The closer he got, the more intense the heat became. He was attempting to take off his shirt by the time he heard another growl and Derek practically ordering Deaton to let him in.

Stiles peeks out from under the desk, only able to see the floor and the base of the door swing open. Outside the betas, including a slightly battered Scott, was on the floor cowering or in Scott’s case, backed off. Derek entered, having been more than irritated by the mountain ash that had once stood between himself and his lover. He had wolfed out, on the verge of a full shift. Stiles could see that his claws had extended and his voice was most distinctly a bark. 

“Where’s Stiles,” Derek nearly howled.

“Under the desk,” Deaton answered, backing away only out of self-preservation not fear. He could handle an alpha if he was in the mood to do so, particularly since Derek was very new.

Derek went to Stiles, who immediately began crawled toward him. His temperature had spiked, he was sweltering. “Derek,” he moaned, reaching for Derek, who pulled him into his arms. “I’m so hot.”

“Hush, Stiles. I know, I know. Everything is going to be okay,” Derek cooed into his ear.

“I need you. I want you. I—”

Derek planted a kiss on Stiles’ lips and slipped his tongue into his lover’s mouth. Therein Stiles felt some ease from his heat, but there was still the desire that was mounting and frazzled. He couldn’t think straight. He took his leave from Derek’s lips and nuzzled down against his wolf’s chest, inhaling that woodsy scent that was so very Derek. It calmed him, grounded him, and he regained some form of thought.

“Please take this out of my office,” Deaton said. “And send your pack to their homes.”

Derek growled, the betas listened and parted, Scott took it upon himself to leave, probably going off to Alison’s to release this built up tension. Resting his chin gently on Stiles’ head, Derek left Deaton’s and ran as best he could with the added weight. 

“Derek!” Stiles said. “I need you so ba-ad.”

“We’ll be home soon, love,” Derek said. “And then I’m going to take you with my knot,” he added, whispering such obscenities into Stiles’ ear.

Stiles churred against Derek’s chest, his arms tightening around his wolf, fearing for even a moment to be parted. His hormones were going haywire, his body was reacting irrationally, or at least in his head that’s what he found it to be — irrational. He loved Derek, but being boiling and unreasonably fearful was against all he stood for, even if he was only skin and bones.

Derek kept his nose close to Stiles, taking in the pheromones and the scent of his mate. It was triggering all his alpha possessiveness and dominant tendencies. Everything that came with being an Alpha was triggered. His eyes were red, dark, and lustful.

The arrived shortly and Derek opened the door and locked it behind them. Stiles, even under the haze of his heat, could see the splendour with his own eyes. “It-it’s beautiful.”

“Your beautiful,” Derek whispered. “This is all for you my mate. My love. My heart.”

Stiles blushed and let a hand drift down to Derek’s waist, sliding his hand into his werewolf’s pants. Derek could feel the heat coming from Stiles, he could see Stiles’ erection growing in their cloth prison, and Derek could smell arousal in the air around them both. The moon was pulling his mind into a frenzy and all that kept him from wolfing out or shifting was his mate, in his arms, begging for him to take him. Stiles was his anchor now, holding him to his humanity.

They climbed the stairs, returning to the bedroom which they had spent the previous night in. The furniture looked so perfect, light coloured, and welcoming. It was the perfect retreat and the natural light was just right and the windows kept the room bright, but managed to block sight into the bedroom. 

Derek lay Stiles on their bed, he had washed the sheets in preparation for their new bed, and began to strip himself down. He carefully pulled off his leather jacket and propped it up on a hook on the back of the door, before slowly removing both his pants and his shirt.

“Pink!” Stiles exclaimed, a little weak.

Derek blushed, but continued, climbing on to the bed on all fours, at which point Stiles could see the outline of Derek’s manhood, a splotch had soaked into the fabric from the tip. Stiles got up, using what little energy he had to take off his clothes. Derek got up from the bed, wanting Stiles not to overexert himself. He wasn’t quite aware of all that came with heat and the cycle, but Stiles was under its effects.

Stiles tore off his shirt, his pants, and was down in his underwear, one that Derek had purchased. They were bright coloured, not pink, but teal. He couldn’t admit to Derek or himself really that those much more expensive underwear that Derek bought for them from Armani, were much more comfortable than the generic ones he bought himself typically. He got down on his knees and with his teeth brought down Derek’s underwear to his ankled.

Derek picked Stiles, up, brought them back to the bed. Stiles wiggled downward and brought his mouth to Derek. He didn’t notice a knot, although he wasn’t going to look that up on the internet. He had, however, read the passages over and over in the bestiary. He took Derek in his mouth, humming around the base, but his werewolf didn’t let Stiles continue for long. Derek withdrew a bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and slicked his fingers, it wasn’t too necessary. His body was producing some wetness and Derek at first was confused, but he had heard of it, heard of alpha’s presence effect the humans of the pack. Stiles may not have been a wolf, but he was going to be deal with several of the sideeffects of having him as lover, as a mate. One at a time and with a little movement and prodding, Derek inserted another then another, until three fingers were lodged within Stiles.

The teen squirmed, wanting more, wanting to be filled. “Take me!” Stiles moaned, or whined or was it crying, Derek wasn’t sure. “Derek, please fill me.”

Taken by the cries of his mate, the smell of Stiles and his heat, and the moon’s sway, Derek answered in full dominant, horny, Alpha way, “I’ll breed you, I’ll take you.”

Stiles groaned as Derek plunged into him without much warning and thrust as if his life depended on it. Stiles couldn’t help but moan and cry out each time that his werewolf pressed against his prostate. “Fill me. Fill me! With—” Stiles moans cut out his words.

“Pups, fill you with my pups!” Derek growled out.

“So close!” Stiles ground out. “Harder! Please I—” 

Derek quickened his pace, hitting Stiles prostate in rapid succession that forced stars to fill his vision. No sound wasn’t utter, everything was a blur of noises and movements as his come splattered on his chest that of Derek’s. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and hoisted himself into Derek. His lover was so deep in him and he could swear that he was feeling Derek get ever larger.

Derek’s knot was swelling and was putting tension on Stiles’ entrance. It was becoming far too much, he was so full and the stretch was burning. There was not enough lube in the world to make this easy, but Stiles took it in stride particularly since he had been wet before without the lube. These werewolf sideeffects were both terrifying and interesting, in a sexually stimulating way. He felt Derek seal him and soon the torrent of Derek’s come flooded into Stiles, making the full feeling expand until Stiles came again himself.

Derek sighed in relief as he lower them down into something more comfortable, as wave after wave poured into Stiles. He could feel each twitch of Derek’s cock and he relished in it. He basked in the afterglow of the moment and snuggled into Derek’s chest with his head. 

“I’m feeling a little full,” Stiles said, laughing a little.

“You like that, my wolfhood locking you to me,” Derek said. He was still enthralled, but slowly he came down from everything. He paused. “S-sorry. The moon. Your heat. So hot. And I love you. And you’re my mate. And we’re now bonded. You’re mine.”

“Bonded, huh?” Stiles whispered.

“Bonded.”

“How long are we stuck like this?”

“Thirty minutes to an hour,” Derek said.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles said nervously.

“Hm?”

“So during... Your said.... I can’t get pregnant?”

“Well, I’ve heard that alpha’s mates, if they’re werewolves can....”

“Okay. Just thought I should know. You know and I’m... Anyway.... God you make me more flustered, and I’m the one in heat.”

“More so than normal.”

“Can we go again? After. God damn it, that was not my brain. God damn this. Derek I blame. I fucking blame you and your wolfy weirdness!” Derek only chuckled as a response. “God damn it. Derek, this isn’t funny. I’m just. I just. You know!”

“Did you take your adderall?”

“No. But! Before you get all judgy, I haven’t needed it lately.” Derek didn’t reply.

Within roughly forty-five minutes Derek deflated, and Stiles thereof felt the emptiness. If he was some psychologist he would assume that he was feeling that emptiness more so because of his blaming himself for his mother’s death. This tragedy had haunted Stiles for many years, but Derek had a way of grounding him, and reminded him what it was like to love someone. Stiles was vastly protective of his friends, those that he let in. And now Derek was added to that list of those he protected, that he would do anything for. 

Stiles sighed as Derek’s manhood slide from his body, but soon he brought his mouth to his werewolf’s neck, drawing his tongue across that stubbled mandible he loved so very much. He parted with a kiss against his lover’s cheek, before returning to that space between Derek’s neck and shoulder and nipped at the flesh. Growling, Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and rolled Stiles underneath him instead of beside him. Stiles giggled, particularly when his werewolf started curling his tongue around one of his nipples and apply light suction, before venturing toward the teen’s neck and bruising the flesh with hickeys.

He could feel Derek’s cock harden against him, as he began to rub himself against Stiles, hardening the teen from the friction. “You know Stiles,” Derek said. “You smell like you want more. You smell amazing. Like you’re everything I want and I can’t describe it. But it’s you.”

“The bestiary says that now we’re bonded, I’m — we’re — legit?”

Derek was taken aback by that for a moment, “We weren’t ‘legit‘ before?”

“Not what I meant. I mean in wolf terms. I don’t much care what other wolfs think about you and I, but if it makes you worry less. And if you can just fuck me.”

Derek grew shocked for a moment, Stiles’ bluntness a little abrasive. 

“Sorry,” Stiles said wincing. “Heat. And you’re talking about bonding and apparently that’s a trigger.”

Derek grinned, but was nearly automatically slapped against the shoulder. 

“Don’t be so damn happy,” Stiles said.

Derek growled playfully, “I can’t help it. I’m going to breed you good so that you can’t even walk.”

“This moon and heat are doing strange things,” Stiles said. “Because that sounds incredibly hot.” He shimmied out from underneath Derek and positioned himself with his head against the foot of the bed, with his arse in the air, taunting Derek to plough him thoroughly. Taking hold of Stiles’ hips with his large hands, Derek quickly lined himself up, pushed himself into Stiles. The teen groaned initially, feeling Derek expand the tight ring of muscles, but soon he relaxed and began to, again, enjoy himself.

“Wolf-style,” Stiles moaned out, each word reverberating with each thrust, not to mention doing the same thing to the giggling he was doing. A growl was all Stiles received, he glanced over his shoulder, straining to see Derek’s face; his beloved face had wolfed out, only slightly, the fangs and the eyes. He could tell that Derek was trying to restrain himself. “Derek,” Stiles interjected through the sounds of Derek’s rumblings and grunting. “Don’t hold back.”

“Stiles,” Derek moaned. His mate was asking for Derek not to restrain himself, he couldn’t deny his mates request when he was trying to retain himself. He let himself go, his claws not digging, but grazing Stiles’ hips and his face wolfing out competely. Stiles swore that Derek got bigger, not from the knot that was slowly inflating, but just in general. He groaned as he stretched to the new growth. Stiles reach for his own manhood, only to be swatted away by Derek who took hold of his lover’s cock, carefully, using some control to retract his claws. He pumped Stiles to completion, and brought his used hand to his chest, rubbing Stiles on him, before pressing his chest to Stiles’ back. He sought his lover’s mouth, Stiles strained, but managed to bring their mouthes together.

Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth, as Derek came into Stiles, the knot locking them together, and the feeling of adding more lubricant for the next time they were going to go at it. 

It took a little more time for Derek to deflate, about an hour. Stiles pulled from Derek, his wolf’s cock sliding out, before he took Derek’s hand and led him to the bathroom. He ran them both a bath, Derek looked through the cabinets and withdrew bubble-bath. 

“Planned this did you?”

“I hoped we would,” Derek replied.

“You just want to bend me over the side of the bath, although this tub is massive.”

“You could always sit on my lap,” Derek suggested.

Stiles pulled Derek into a kiss, their naked bodies pressing together, the light filtering in from the frosted window. The midday sun was the perfect lighting for the scene. “I didn’t know, Derek, when I first met you that I was going to be in love with you, and to be honest I was fearful of you. At first I found you abrasive, but I came to realize that you were like me.”

“Like you?” Derek said, blushing. He wasn’t much one for words, nor was he familiar, or at least not anymore, with someone openly admitting love, not just simply lust.

“Someone lost. Someone wounded. We fill each other up,” Stiles said, only realizing after the double entendre.

“Oh I’ll fill you up,” Derek said, growling into Stiles’ neck.

“That’s not what I meant. Well okay now I do, but what I meant was that we’ve lost people. You know loss. You understand. You know what’s like.”

“I love you, Stiles. I understand you, I’ll always be here to fill the loss. We’ll deal with it together,” Derek said, speaking more than he had the entire day.

Stiles hugged him close, nearly crying, but managing to pull away and get into the tub. The water loosened sore muscles and general posterior ache from Derek’s savaging of his body. Stiles loved it, loved the reminder of their union. He found it hard to have faith in things he couldn’t understand, or at least that’s the way it was before he knew about werewolves. Derek was a good thing for him. Derek was the perfect match. His mate. His bonded mate. The one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, however, long or short.

Derek climbed into the bathtub, feeling the same relaxation. The moon may have held sway over the pair, but their minds could understand, and prevented some of those impulses. Stiles curled into Derek’s side, entwining their legs and bodies. He nuzzled into Derek, inhaling, calming the heat, similarly in which the moon’s pull was mitigated by his mate’s heat, their bonding, Stiles’ scent, and his anchor in his lap.

Derek’s scent caught in Stiles’ nostrils, the heat flared, and his mind drifted; Stiles climbed up on Derek’s lap, clumsily reaching around and brought Derek hardening cock to his entrance. He forced Derek into him and began to work himself, fucking himself with his werewolf’s manhood.

Derek began thrusting into Stiles, his own aftermath, Stiles’ heat’s wetness, easing his way. Stiles moved in such a rhythm and deepened each one of Derek’s thrusts. The water was agitated and nearly sloshed over the edge. Derek picked Stiles up, bent him over the side of the tub and took his mate hard. Stiles couldn’t contain himself, moaning and crying out Derek’s name. 

Soon they both were back in the tub, refreshing the cooling water with hot and enjoying each other’s company. “I think,” Stiles said, his breath laboured from their union. “We need a hot tub.” Stiles looked toward Derek, lifting his head from his werewolf’s chest. “What do you think.” There was a twinkle in Derek’s eyes.

“Well, actually.”

“There’s one by the pool isn’t there.”

“Yes.”

“Derek,” Stiles chastised. “This house must have cost you a fortune.”

“I want us to be comfortable. I want the pack. I want you to be comfortable here. You deserve the best.”

“Derek,” Stiles cooed. “Where ever you are I’ll be happy. So long as you hold me. So long as you love me.”

“I’ll always love you.”

“And,” Stiles interjected a little wildly. “You promise to protect me, but not do be overprotective and do something that you think is in my good interest. Everything we share. No secrets.”

“No secrets.”

“Good,” Stiles said. He paused for a moment, before drawing his tongue quickly against the shell of Derek’s ear. “Ready to go again?” A rubble of a growl shook through Stiles, signalling Derek’s approval.

***  
Stiles had dressed in a pair of Derek’s pajama pants and the nearly translucent sweater he had left her and that Derek had bought him a couple months back. He was busily making coffee, Stiles had been glad that Derek had purchased some coffee to go with the maker. He set it up both the machine going and the cups set up. It dawned upon him there that Derek had moved out — That they wouldn’t be spending every day together in the same house. Sometime he had to be at his childhood home with his father until he was eighteen. Until he could move in with Derek. He wished, he wished he could be eighteen now and live with Derek. It was only a year, but it would feel like an eternity.

Derek came into the room, having told Stiles that he was going to get a present he had bought for Stiles. He was to stay in the kitchen, make coffee, and wait for him to return. He had gone to his car, he must have left the gift there. His werewolf sat up on the counter, Stiles handed him his coffee and reached for his own coffee.

Stiles positioned himself in front of Derek, who wrapped his legs from his lover’s standing legs. Derek took a sip of his coffee before he put it down and reached into his pocket. His pajama-panted groin rubbing against Stiles’ arse, forcing a churr from his bondmate. 

“If you’re present was taking me in the kitchen, the windows could make for several embarrassing situations,” Stiles said.

“Well no, but I’m thinking about it now regardless,” Derek added. He took Stiles’ hands from behind, wrapping both their hands together. He therein placed a ring of keys. Stiles opened his hands.

“My gift is my keychain?”

Derek nipped the back of Stiles neck in protest. “Look again,” he said, gruffness returning to his voice.

“You added three keys,” Stiles whispered.

“One’s to the house, the other two are for full moons. One for the basement door and the other for the chains,” Derek said.

“Oh Derek,” Stiles said. “It’s a sweet, perfect gift.” He twisted his neck and his mouth to reach around for a kiss, which Derek provided wholeheartedly.

They broke free for a moment, both taking a sip of coffee. “That reminds me,” Derek said. “Is drinking coffee good for your ADD, you haven’t been taking your adderall.”

“I believe I said with you around I don’t seem to need them, you ground me sourwolf.”

“And what about your heat? Doesn’t the warmth of coffee make it worth.”

“After having fucked me thoroughly, I think it took some kick out of my heat,” Stiles said.

“Well I can always bring it down further.”

Stiles chucked. “After coffee.”

***

An entire day spent in the particular care of his bondmate. It was blissful, spending so much time with Derek, even more so now that he was in heat and it would, according to Derek, last for several more days — at least three. He had called his father, saying that he had planned to help Derek with a housewarming party, and since he had no friends of his own, Stiles was going to invite his friends over. The sheriff found it odd, but since Stiles had invited him, there wasn’t much he could disagree with. Of course Stiles said that it would take a couple of days to prepare, helping Derek arrange everything.

Well he did arrange a great party: putting the finishing touches on the arrangement of the furniture and such, not to mention dealing with food. Pizza and BBQ was on the menu, so they filled the house with good stuff and were going to order some pizza on the day. It took only an hour or two to arrange everything, but those days would be spent alleviating Stiles’ heat with his particular brand of... cure.

He couldn’t be parted from his alpha — his mate — his bondmate, his lover, his boyfriend, his future, his everything. Deaton had called, giving Stiles more information; if parted from Derek he would experience pains, delusions, nausea, the list went on and on. Even if Derek so close he would have bouts of that longing, befuddlement by either Derek’s scent, body, etcetera. Not to mention insatiable appetite for Derek’s wolfhood. Deaton also had the courtesy to tell him that he would be having these twice a year. And, that if he was wolf he could very well carry Derek’ pups. He had contemplated it for a moment, the thought that he had the option of a family, later down the line. The risk, however, was his life, if his body rejected the bite. He put the matter out of his head.

Derek had spent quite a lot of time showing Stiles the house, going room to room, and spending a lot of time in the study designed for him. His werewolf had made a perfect, somewhat large library/study for him. It was perfect for studying the bestiary and other sources, windows lighting everything, and perfect electric lights that would illuminate the room at night if Stiles was up late with a particular problem. The curtains had been draw, however, and only a sliver of light entered the room near the desk; yet the room wasn’t dark or too sunny. A perfect study. 

Stiles sat on a corner of the desk, “You’ve really outdone yourself here Derek,” he said. Derek smiled, holding out his hand for Stiles to take it, and for them to continue their tour. Stiles took Derek’s hand and he pulled his lover into his arms, lifting him easily into supernatural-empowered arms. 

“After the heat, you’ll bring clothes here, won’t you, love?” Derek said, as they climbed up to their bedroom in the attic.

“Well I could hardly refuse, you set aside an entire section of your walk in closet for me,” Stiles said. He paused for a moment. “I’m surprised our pack hasn’t visited.”

“They know better than to come,” Derek growled.

“Derek,” Stiles groaned in protest.

“You’re mine,” Derek said, growling harshly.

“I’m yours and you. Are. Mine,” Stiles said, giving his best growl in response.

Derek pushed his mouth to Stiles, bring them to the sauna before stripping Stiles of his clothes and then his own. He had preheated the sauna before hand. 

The warmth was heightened by his heat that was rising as the urge to jump Derek rose. Once the door was closed, Stiles jumped Derek; their mouths clashing and their bodies meshing. Stiles mouth was soon on Derek’s cock, drawing his tongue across the undercarriage before taking the tip into his mouth, apply suction before pulling Derek’s manhood deeper into his mouth and humming around the base. 

Stiles could feel his pre-slicked entrance yearning for Derek’s cock. His heat forcing his entrance ready through some werewolven influence. He pulled himself off his prize, laying down on the first bench of the two tiered bench. Derek didn’t take his time, he was deep within Stiles in moments and was beginning to move.

“Derek,” Stiles said, a little hesitant.

“Yes?”

“You want to breed me?”

“Yes,” Derek moaned, Stiles constricting his muscles to tighten himself.

“You want to fill me with your pups,” Stiles added. Derek growled, his face shifting and his eyes red. Stiles came rather quickly, the heat, and the heat of the sauna pulling him into a near unbearable state of arousal. “Take me, don’t hold back. F-Fuck. Fuck. Me.”

“Force me to bear your pups, my belly swollen with them,” Stiles said, pulling from his own imagination and thoughts about the fact that he could. 

Derek thrusts became more desperate, harder, deeper, and Stiles meant them to deepen them. He moaned and cried, wanting more. His werewolf soon thickened, locking them together, and spilling into Stiles.

“I think a bath is in order,” Stiles said.

“We’ll have to run it twice,” Derek answered.

***  
The party was in full swing, the sheriff felt a little out of place amongst the teenage throng that Stiles had invited, however, he found himself drawn to the adults of the group: Erica’s family, Scott’s mother, Boyd’s family, Jackson’ family, Lydia’s and Alison’s father. It was a mixed lot of people, people who only associated because of their children, but found nothing else in common.

Stiles clutched onto Derek’s side, the amount of people there making him nervous, but with his werewolf near it was manageable. The only reason Derek allowed it was to keep Stiles close for another day. Stiles’ father may have approved of him, but if Stiles spent every day and night here, he would soon disapprove.

His father kept an eye on him, there was something off, or at least Stiles was being particularly clinging today, never parting from Derek’s side. His father though was keen, a deductive mind that was always in works, even though he operated without the knowledge of werewolves. He assumed that their shared understanding of loss and sorrow brought them together and that they filled a void within each other; that even though the comedy that he had witness while Derek stayed with them between his son and him, that they were caught in some deep love that, the sheriff believed, would be great. He didn’t quite approve of Stiles falling in love without much thought into what else was out there, but his son wouldn’t hear of it. He also worried that Stiles was too controlled by Derek, but from what he saw, Stiles held the power. Derek wouldn’t disobey him.

Meanwhile Stiles watched his father, thinking that if one day he was to have Derek’s pups, not just in the thralls of their union, but for real, that his father would have to know about werewolves. To know about everything. This thought, however, was interrupted by Scott.

“Stiles, you reek,” Scott said.

“Of?” Stiles asked.

“Derek.”

“We’re bonded,” Stiles said, elbowing Derek for growling and the a second time in the gut for chuckling under his breath

Scott was put off by the thought, but the rest of the pack seemed unbothered. Stiles knew that Scott would be hardest to swing around, he had been so upset with Derek for the past two years that it was hard to understand why Stiles would fall in love with Derek. He would, however, come around. It was much easier to talk with Scott’s mother, she was well versed in the understand of werewolves and was good at keeping it to herself. She found their romance, romantic, as it was intended, and would try to convince her son. She was deductive in her own rights and had a strategic mind. She knew what evils the world could throw and she was well-prepared to agree that Derek was not one of those evil things. The Alpha pack, that threatened both her son and his friends, was her primary concern, but they had remained quiet, and she feared their approach. Maybe Peter, the one that Scott spoke of and that she had seen, would be able to rally the allies of the Hales and bring down the madness that lingered in the power-crazed creatures that had only a hungry, hubris-involving, greed that she ventured should have been snuffed out long ago, by either people like the Argents, werewolves, or other such creatures that roam in the realm of the unknown to the mortal eye.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear. “I think sometime soon we should tell my father.”

“I think it involves the right moment,” Derek whispered.

“Right. We’ll find one.”

“After your cycle.”

Stiles grinned and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder as they met with the rest of the party goers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any updates one can check @twsterek on tumblr.


End file.
